THE  FOURTH 
NAPOLEON 

CHARLES    BENHAM 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


The  Fourth  Napoleon 


The  Fourth  Napoleon 

A  Romance 


by 

Charles   Benham 


HERBERT   S.  STONE    fcf   CO. 
CHICAGO  fc?  NEW  YORK 

1897 


COPYRIGHT,     1897,    BY 
HERBERT  S.   STONE  &  CO. 


Book   I 

TOUS  LES  BONAPARTES  ETAIENT 
MORTS  ...  EH  BIEN,  J'AI  RAL- 
TACHE  LE  FIL" 


The   Fourth  Napoleon 

Chapter   I 

The  first  day  of  June,  189-,  Walter  Sadler  awoke 
unref  reshed ;  the  sun  came  streaming  through  his  bedroom 
window  and  summoned  him  from  Pimlico,  and  misery. 

He  was  bitterly  unhappy.  A  barrister  of  six  years' 
standing,  and  still  briefless;  his  body  and  soul  kept 
together  by  a  paltry  annual  dividend,  which  clothed  him 
so  that  he  was  always  shabby,  fed  him  often  insufficiently, 
and  enabled  him  to  idle  out  existence  between  his  dingy 
rooms  in  Lupus  Street  and  the  Temple. 

The  first  two  years  after  his  call  had  gone  smoothly 
enough.  His  guardian  still  lived.  He  never  wanted  for 
money,  and  the  house  at  Harrow,  set  in  the  midst  of 
charming  grounds,  and  filled  with  beautiful  things,  gilded 
what  he  chose  to  regard  as  his  period  of  probation.  He 
felt  no  desire  to  forego  his  contribution  to  that  far-seen 
mound  of  patience  which  great  men  share  in  common  as 
their  noblest  monument.  He  laboured  diligently  at  law. 
He  attended  the  courts  daily;  and  if  the  sight  of  emi- 
nent leaders  caused  him  pain,  it  was,  after  all,  but  a 
momentary  pang.  Had  not  they  also  endured  like  years 
of  desolate  pupilage? 

The  third  year,  all  this  changed.  His  guardian  died. 
Our  hero  was  prepared:  the  event  had  occupied  its  place 
in  his  horizon.  He  moved  from  Harrow  to  Lupus  Street, 
from  affluence  to  penury,  with  courage  unshaken.  His 
aspirations  buoyed  him.  He  rose  earlier,  ate  less,  worked 
harder.  "  He  that  now  goeth  forth  weeping," — this  was 
his  song  night  and  morning;  though  his  view  regarding 
the  nature  of  the  "sheaves"  to  be  brought  back  con- 


2  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

tmued  somewhat  vague.  His  training,  gained  from 
books  that  dealt  with  Cicero  and  Demosthenes,  and 
among  young  men  perpetually  thinking  about  Canning, 
inclined  him  towards  a  political  career.  School  speech- 
days  and  debating  societies,  and  afterwards  the  Union, 
had  fostered  an  aptitude  for  declamation  and  flowing 
utterance,  transmitted  to  him  he  knew  not  whence,  see- 
ing that,  even  if  these  gifts  are  merely  contagious,  his 
guardian  had  had  none  of  them,  while  he  was  in  total 
ignorance  about  his  parents.  But  whither  these  talents 
led,  this  he  knew  well  enough.  From  thirteen  onward 
the  Premiership  had  been  ever  in  his  dreams.  All  those 
that  had  spoken  with  silver  tongues  and  now  were  silent 
he  counted  kith  and  kin.  The  living  he  merely  envied. 
And  this  jealousy — not  an  uncommon  trait  in  ambitious 
youth — lost  none  of  its  keenness  from  the  fact  that  the 
political  stage  at  the  time  held  none  for  whom  jealousy 
was  warranted.  A  long  line  of  statesmen  had  just 
ended.  Oratory  languished.  Power,  with  its  fascinat- 
ing paraphernalia,  was  in  the  hands  of  lesser  men ;  and 
halls  which  had  echoed  eloquence  now  served  to  scatter 
the  sound  of  words,  apt  and  copious  enough,  but  devoid 
of  either  passion  or  profundity. 

Nevertheless  it  is  hard  to  labour  without  return. 
Four  years  slipped  away  into  five,  into  six,  and  he  came 
not  a  single  guinea  nearer  the  House  of  Commons. 
Hope  faded, — imperceptibly,  like  the  coming  of  night,  and 
with  the  same  remorselessness.  His  efforts  relaxed. 
He  rose  late  to  dawdling  breakfasts;  left  his  chambers  at 
three  of  an  afternoon,  to  wander  aimlessly  about  the 
streets.  His  powers  of  application  became  dissipated 
from  long  disuse.  Indeed,  for  many  months  prior  to  the 
commencement  of  this  story,  he  had  been  unable  to 
devote  ten  consecutive  minutes  to  any  given  object. 

He  turned  over  to  escape  the  sunlight,  and  thought 
bitterly  on  the  coming  day.  Beyond  doubt,  it  would 
prove  a  replica  of  hundreds  already  gone.  Aimless  and 
heavy-hearted  amid  the  busy  morning,  he  would  loiter 
down  to  his  chambers,  and  sink  into  a  chair  before  that 
hateful,  dust-coated  blotter  which  invariably  greeted  the 
first  eager  glance  at  his  table.  Next,  to  the  courts;  and 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  3 

there  he  would  find  himself  among  others  of  his  kind: 
men  over  whose  faces  he  had  watched  disappointment 
stealing  as  the  years  went  by;  disappointment  moving 
from  the  forehead  downwards,  to  glaze  the  eyes;  and 
animalism,  disappointment's  companion,  creeping  up- 
wards over  chin  and  mouth,  and  puckering  the  upper  lip 
and  nostrils, — so  that  the  two  commingled  into  masks 
that  haunted  him.  The  Inn  library  held  out  a  prospect 
that  was  hardly  more  alluring.  The  whole  Temple 
teemed  with  brethren  in  adversity:  aimless  loungers 
long  since  forgotten  of  hope;  briefless,  busy  bodies 
fluttering  between  their  chambers  and  the  pillar-box 
beside  the  library,  with  all  the  appearance  of  cases  wait- 
ing in  both  Courts  of  Appeal,  or  who  wandered  hither 
and  thither  in  the  throes  of  compilation,  everlastingly 
whispering, — a  habit  engrafted,  no  doubt,  by  the  con- 
stant pilfering  from  other  men's  books  for  the  benefit 
of  books  of  their  own.  And  this  melancholy  throng  was 
knit  together  by  a  bond  of  smouldering  antagonism, 
which  represented  the  fear  felt  by  each  that  all  the 
others  would  distance  him  in  the  race  for  fortune, — a 
sensation  which  is  among  the  last  of  expiring  ambition. 

Was  it  really  written  that  he  should  become  like  one 
of  these?  A  member  by  merit  of  that  miserable  band  of 
wasted  lives?  The  thought  was  too  horrible.  He 
groaned  aloud,  then  buried  his  face  in  the  pillow,  trying 
to  shut  out  all  remembrance. 

Thus  he  lay  close  upon  an  hour,  saturated  with  woe. 
And  thus,  no  doubt,  he  would  have  lain  until  lunch-time, 
were  it  possible  to  lie  long  abed  in  furnished  lodgings. 
His  landlady,  a  fat,  amiable  woman  with  a  sting,  kept 
ceaselessly  knocking.  Once,  she  went  so  far  as  to  insert 
a  dishevelled  head  to  inquire  after  his  health.  She  indi- 
cated gently  that  it  was  a  beautiful  day;  that  the  aris- 
tocracy, including  her  husband  and  the  coal  merchant 
round  the  corner,  were  gone  to  Epsom.  At  last  she 
drove  him  into  his  meagre  breakfast.  But  that  com- 
pleted, and  the  time  come  to  start  for  his  labour,  he 
could  not  move.  He  lacked  courage  to  go  through  the 
day  as  he  had  mapped  it.  He  felt  too  despondent.  He 
would  pass  the  remainder  of  the  week  in  idleness.  Per- 


4  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

haps,  by  frequent  communion  with  his  aspirations,  and 
some  blank  hours  of  holiday,  he  might  re-awaken  energy 
to  start  again. 

The  day  wore  on.  Walter  stuck  obstinately  to  his 
arm-chair  and  listless  attitude,  neither  thinking,  nor 
reading,  nor  sleeping  —  a  picture  of  vacant  despair. 
When  at  last  he  did  find  himself  out  of  doors,  it  was 
without  idea  how  he  should  spend  the  hours  that  must 
elapse  before  repairing  to  his  usual  eating-house. 

He  turned  into  Piccadilly,  where  he  could  see  the 
wealth  and  luxury  which  he  might  not  enjoy.  For,  as 
happened  not  infrequently,  the  sensuous  side  of  him  was 
in  the  ascendant.  He  wanted  beautiful  houses,  with 
lofty  rooms  full  of  the  most  costly  furniture;  halls 
heavy  with  Eastern  trophies  which  he  himself  had  gar- 
nered; libraries  lined  to  the  ceiling  with  books;  drawing- 
rooms  decked  in  the  style  of  France.  France,  too, 
should  hold  one  of  his  palaces.  A  house  in  Paris; 
a  villa  at  Cannes,  nestling  among  palms  and  oranges; 
a  modernized  castle  of  the  middle  ages,  washed  by  the 
grey  sea,  upon  the  Breton  coast;  a  snow-white  chateau 
amid  the  beauties  of  the  Vosges.  These  made  the  para- 
dise much  desired  of  his  bursting  heart.  The  whole 
country,  in  truth,  though  his  visits  had  been  few  and  far 
between,  possessed  for  him  a  curious  fascination.  He 
spoke  the  language  with  unusual  excellence,  an  accom- 
plishment which,  he  always  understood,  he  owed  to 
French  governesses  and  a  lengthy  sojourn  at  a  tender 
age  in  Paris. 

Housed,  his  thoughts  moved  to  other  luxuries.  He 
wanted  carriages  to  vie  with  the  most  brilliant  passing 
before  him.  He  wanted  elegant  clothes;  and  he  stole 
a  glance  at  his  frayed  cuffs  and  shapeless  garments. 
He  wanted  dainty  things  to  eat,  rich  wines,  and  rare 
liqueurs.  He  pictured  himself  sipping  green  chartreuse 
among  the  oranges,  lazily  watching  St.  Honorat  filmed 
behind  the  blue  wreaths  from  his  cigarette.  How  can 
one  sip  green  chartreuse  in  Pimlico!  Thus  he  came  to 
the  things  which,  save  for  homes  in  France,  he  desired 
most  of  all.  Travel  —  to  see  India;  to  catch  across  the 
port  bow  the  first  glimpse  of  land,  rigid  amidst  the 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  5 

moving  waters,  black  against  the  dawning  sky;  and  to 
find  that  this  cold  strip  opened  itself  into  a  world  rich 
with  sunshine  and  gorgeous  unfamiliar  life.  To  glide 
upon  his  yacht  through  Norwegian  fiords,  breathing  the 
twilight  air  among  a  shifting  panorama  of  fir-clad  hills, 
seeming  to  encircle  him  on  every  side  and  to  leave  no 
outlet  to  another  of  the  land-locked  waters  into  which 
the  sea  has  fretted  that  iron  cost. 

Imperceptibly  these  desires  glided  into  dreams.  His 
step  quickened;  he  lifted  his  head  once  more.  Poor 
fellow!  he  was  drawing  upon  those  floating  millions  which 
lie  open  for  all  men  to  dip  into  at  their  pleasure. 

An  old  schoolfellow  stumbled  up  against  him,  and 
rudely  checked  his  triumphant  progress.  Walter  tried 
to  escape  with  a  hurried  greeting,  but  the  other  —  full 
three  years  his  junior,  and  still  boyishly  bashful  —  clung 
to  him  from  very  shyness.  His  own  attire  told  of  a 
limitless  purse;  and  each  minute,  as  the  fuller  compre- 
hension of  Walter's  misery  forced  itself  upon  him,  he 
grew  more  uncomfortable.  He  mumbled  out  random 
facts  about  himself  in  an  apologetic  tone,  saying  that 
he  was  in  his  father's  business,  and  meant  to  spend 
August  at  Aix.  Then  he  dashed  into  those  consolatory 
commonplaces  used  so  frequently  by  the  friends  of 
learned  juniors,  and  thus  passed  on. 

Walter  had  never  tasted  more  bitter  humiliation.  At 
school,  as  in  the  world,  a  man's  character  leaks  out 
without  any  conscious  effort  on  his  part.  Not  a  boy  in 
Sadler's  house  but  knew  that  "  Frenchy  " — a  nickname 
stigmatizing  his  proficiency  in  the  Gallic  tongue,  his 
black  hair,  and  sallow  face  —  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
do  great  things.  Behold  "Frenchy"  on  the  road  to 
glory! 

Outside  Devonshire  House  he  came  across  another 
acquaintance,  a  barrister  like  himself,  a  man  of  fifty  and 
upwards,  who  for  years  had  eked  out  a  scanty  livelihood 
from  law-reporting.  Walter  welcomed  the  meeting;  for 
the  elder  man  evidently  liked  him,  and  long  ago  had 
read  his  sorrowful  face.  Often  upon  the  back  benches, 
with  a  case  of  no  public  interest  pursuing  its  dreary 
course,  he  would  regale  the  latter  with  stories  of  men 


6  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

who,  having  waited  many  years,  had  at  last  succeeded, 
— "  contemporaries  of  my  own,  my  dear  fellow,  I  do 
assure  you."  To-day  he  laid  a  kindly  hand  upon  the 
young  man's  shoulder,  and  gazed  down  into  his  face 
with  eyes  which,  if  they  had  lost  the  light  of  hope,  still 
retained  some  glow  of  sympathy.  He  remarked  his 
weariness,  and  cheered  him  with  prospect  of  the  long 
vacation,  averring  that  rest  was  what  he  needed.  Then, 
when  Walter  shook  his  head,  the  kind  fellow  whispered 
that  he  knew  his  complaint,  which,  moreover,  was  a 
curable  one.  The  chance  would  come,  he  murmured, 
all  in  its  own  good  time.  When  it  did  come  —  and  he 
could  not  have  said  anything  more  consoling  —  Walter 
might  not  find  himself  so  capable  as  he  had  imagined. 
He  would  be  competent.  That  went  without  saying. 
But  —  but  —  it  was  a  well-known  fact  that  men,  when 
they  were  waiting,  contracted  a  disease  which,  for  want 
of  better  designation,  one  might  term  the  "genius  of 
the  untried." 

Walter  at  parting  thanked  him  with  a  grasp  of  genu- 
ine affection.  Were  not  his  words  the  absolute  truth? 
Chance  offers  to  all  men,  at  some  time  or  another,  only 
let  them  know  when  and  how  to  seize  it.  He,  the  brief- 
less barrister,  would  wrest  a  competence  from  law,  and 
force  his  way  into  the  House  of  Commons.  Then  the 
world  should  see — well,  what  it  should  see. 

Meanwhile  he  began  to  feel  hungry.  In  crossing  King 
Street,  a  fancy  seized  him.  He  come  to  a  dead  stop 
opposite  Jervis's,  and  surveyed  it  with  clouded  brow.  Its 
sparkling  plate  glass,  panelled  with  white  lace,  gave  it  an 
air  of  subdued  richness,  which  he  found  exceedingly 
enticing.  What  a  contrast  to  the  tawdry  Italian  meat- 
house  where  he  usually  dined.  Walter  was  still  busy 
with  the  words  let  drop  by  his  kindly  mentor.  His  chance 
would  come,  sure  enough;  only  he  must  be  ready  to  take 
it.  His  present  life  was  the  commencement  of  submer- 
sion. He  must  go  about  more;  spend  larger  sums  on 
food  and  clothes  —  and  as  a  preliminary  he  began  to 
search  his  pockets.  His  purse  contained  money  that  usu- 
ally sufficed  for  seven  dinners;  dare  he  fling  it  away  on 
one?  But  the  impulse  was  too  strong.  He  looked  down 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  7 

at  his  clothes;  all  said  and  done,  many  a  Cabinet  minis- 
ter wore  worse.  Without  more  ado  he  pushed  through 
the  swinging  doors,  and  made  his  way  upstairs  into  one 
of  the  first-floor  dining-rooms. 

The  apartment  was  almost  empty.  A  couple  of  wait- 
ers near  the  door  received  him  without  overwhelming 
graciousness,  and  consigned  him  to  an  underling  who  was 
youthful  and  communicative.  No  less  than  three  com- 
plimentary banquets — Sadler  gathered  from  his  inform- 
ant— were  to  take  place  in  the  restaurant  that  night. 
The  Prime  Minister  himself  was  to  be  at  one  of  them. 
That  gentleman  in  the  farther  corner  was  Mr.  William 
Grover,  the  manager.  He  always  came.  Walter  looked 
without  interest  at  this  man  who  kept  two  halls  and 
three  theatres  going  incessantly  from  year's  end  to 
year's  end.  The  face  was  as  miserable  as  his  own.  Then 
his  eyes  travelled  to  an  opposite  corner,  where  sat  Sir 
Robert  Redburne,  a  judge  of  the  Queen's  Bench,  solacing 
himself  for  a  day  spent  at  the  Old  Bailey.  His  lordship's 
red  face  glistened.  He  held  his  claret  against  the  light, 
as  though  invoking  a  benediction  from  heaven.  And  he 
was  still  in  this  interesting  attitude,  when  a  lady  and  gen- 
tleman, both  in  evening  dress,  stopped  before  his  table. 
Walter  could  tell  them  at  a  glance.  Mr.  Blake,  the  cele- 
brated painter,  and  husband  of  a  still  more  celebrated 
wife :  Mrs.  Blake's  novels  were  biennial  and  epoch-making. 
Our  hero,  watching  this  illustrious  couple  bend  with  easy 
familiarity  over  the  judge's  table,  thought  them  the  most 
fortunate  people  in  the  world.  He  only  saw  their  backs. 
Otherwise  he  might  possibly  have  noticed  that  Sir  Robert 
received  them  with  a  smile  of  only  modified  pleasure, 
compared  with  that  lately  bestowed  upon  his  wine;  while 
the  female  Blake  kept  him  under  an  unimpassioned  stare, 
which  said  quite  plainly,  "  I  am  taking  your  likeness,  you 
shameless  old  wine-bibber,  for  future  use. "  The  season, 
the  waiter  resumed  as  a  pendant  to  Monsieur's  soup,  had 
been  good  so  far:  people  came  in  parties  before  the  opera. 
That  table  yonder  with  the  silver  fountain  and  the  flowers 
was  reserved  for  the  Earl  of  Framlingham,  the  late  am- 
bassador in  Paris.  They  did  say  that  M.  Carache,  the 
French  Foreign  Minister,  and  Mervan,  the  great  tenor, 


THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

were  both  to  be  present.  Did  Monsieur  know  the  Earl? 
Was  he  not  to  receive  the  vacant  viceroyship  of  India? 
Monsieur  must  have  heard  Mervan?  He  was  singing  in 
Lohengrin  that  evening.  What  he  ate  would  n't  interfere 
with  his  voice;  for  he  ate  nothing,  if  one  might  judge 
from  previous  occasions. 

The  door  opened.  Both  waiters  fell  into  postures  of 
humility.  The  Earl  of  Framlingham,  late  ambassador 
at  Paris  and — according  to  the  papers — viceroy-designate 
of  India,  stepped  into  the  room.  Walter  recognized  him 
from  his  photographs.  His  great  height,  his  heavy 
mouth,  only  half  concealed  by  a  beard;  his  faded,  tired 
eyes,  set  beneath  a  well-formed  forehead,  in  its  turn  sur- 
mounted by  scanty  hair,  brown  and  but  sparsely  tinged 
with  grey,  completed  a  figure  which  was  not  readily  for- 
gotten. 

Mervan  was  there,  and  Carache,  whom  our  hero  sin- 
gled out  without  a  moment's  hesitation.  What  misery! 
foreigners  admitted  into  exalted  circles,  closed  against 
himself.  Lady  Framlingham,  too,  the  daughter  (as  every 
one  knew)  of  a  high-born  French  nobleman,  an  intimate 
of  the  late  Emperor.  The  Countess  was  short,  but  of  an 
exceedingly  distinguished  presence;  dark,  with  regular 
features,  and  a  white  skin  that  glistened  even  more  than 
her  numerous  diamonds.  There  was  no  mistaking  the 
young  man  who  followed.  Walter  could  have  told  him 
for  her  son,  had  he  not  known  as  much.  Lord  Mendril 
and  he  had  been  passing  acquaintances  at  Oxford.  He 
lifted  himself  in  readiness  to  bow.  But  the  young  noble- 
man had  lost  all  memory  of  the  other's  existence;  favour- 
ing him  with  a  bland  stare.  Sadler  flushed  crimson.  His 
accursed  condition!  He  wished  to  God  he  had  never 
been  born — that  he  might  die — that — that — he  scarcely 
knew  what  he  did  wish, — utter  obliteration  in  whatever 
shape  or  form.  The  next  instant  he  had  forgotten  the 
cut  direct,  Lady  Framlingham's  distinguished  air  and 
diamonds,  or  the  cosmopolitan  character  of  her  hus- 
band's visiting-list.  His  restless  eyes  lit  upon  a  face  that 
kept  them  henceforth  rivetted.  His  brain,  seething  with 
misery  and  discontent,  grew  conscious  of  a  presence 
which  swelled  his  discontent  a  thousand-fold,  making  it 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  9 

almost  contentment;  increased  his  misery  until  it  became 
the  essence  of  delight. 

She  was  a  girl  scarcely  out  of  her  teens,  slim  of  figure. 
Her  likeness  to  Lord  Framlingham  was  marked  enough 
to  declare  the  relationship.  She  had  his  lofty  forehead, 
and  promised  to  be  much  above  the  middle  height.  But 
in  many  things  she  resembled  neither  father  nor  mother. 
Her  oval  face,  ivory-tinted,  and  without  colour;  her  wide 
grey  eyes;  her  chiselled  mouth  and  chin,  beautiful  yet 
full  of  resolution;  her  delicate  nose,  turned  upwards  the 
least  bit, — these  were  features  absolutely  her  own ;  as  also 
the  wealth  of  bronze-coloured  hair,  crowning  her  head, 
and,  in  Walter's  eyes,  completing  her  matchless  charm. 
She  was  seated  between  Mervan  and  an  unknown  young 
gentleman  who,  as  our  hero  discovered  before  long,  was 
a  Russian  named  Nicholas  Fersen,  an  attache  at  the 
embassy  in  Paris.  He  soon  grew  to  detest  these  neigh- 
bours of  hers.  The  respectful  attention  wherewith  she 
treated  the  great,  if  somewhat  elderly,  singer  galled  him. 
As  for  Count  Fersen,  Walter  hated  htm,  because  his  treat- 
ment was  the  opposite  of  Mervan's.  The  girl  appeared 
to  hold  this  Russian  of  no  account,  though  he  never 
removed  his  eyes  from  her  face,  watching  her  with  almost 
doglike  fidelity,  languishing  under  her  monosyllables, 
brightening  when  she  smiled,  and  torn  between  pleasure 
and  pain  when  she  laughed  outright. 

Occupied  as  he  was,  the  young  barrister  felt  that  he 
in  his  turn  was  being  keenly  scrutinized,  and  by  no  less 
a  person  than  the  great  Carache.  He  reddened  and 
fidgetted  under  the  minister's  survey;  and,  at  length, 
able  to  endure  it  no  longer,  looked  round  so  that  their 
eyes  met.  Even  then  the  minister  did  not  desist,  quite 
unmoved  by  the  glances  of  defiance  which  Walter  in- 
dulged in.  A  perplexed  look  deepened  over  his  own 
crafty  visage.  Finally  he  turned  with  a  shrug  to  Lady 
Framlingham.  "The  gentleman,"  said  he  in  French, 
"  looks  depressed.  I  could  have  pledged  my  life  I  knew 
him.  It  must  be  his  face:  he  is  a  veritable  little  Plon- 
Plon."  The  resemblance,  noted  by  friends  and 
strangers  alike  on  many  a  previous  occasion,  had  long 
ceased  to  cause  Sadler  pleasure.  To-night  it  gave  him 


io  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

the  most  acute  annoyance.  He  once  more  sought 
Muriel's  face,  and  the  consolation  that  lay  in  its  pure 
outlines.  He  trembled  at  the  thought  that  presently  he 
must  go  out  into  the  night  and  lose  all  but  its  most 
imperfect  memory.  Certainly  she  would  be  at  the 
opera,  and  he  meant  to  follow  her  thither;  but  how 
could  he  count  on  finding  the  Framlingham  box?  No, 
he  would  never  see  her  again.  For  once,  however, 
Fortune  favoured.  At  the  opera,  the  boxes  within  the 
line  of  vision  from  his  nook  at  the  stage  end  of  one  of 
the  "slips"  were  filling  rapidly.  He  scanned  their 
occupants;  determined,  if  need  be,  to  struggle  to  the 
parallel  extremity  of  the  opposite  gallery,  and  commence 
his  search  afresh.  Keeping  this  comfort  in  reserve,  he 
made  his  scrutiny  with  a  brave  heart,  hardly  expecting 
immediate  success.  He  obtained  it,  perhaps  for  that 
very  reason.  One,  two,  three  boxes  —  in  each  case  a 
blank.  The  fourth  full  of  Japanese;  an  insult  to  this 
Englishman  perched  above  the  dust  that  lies  thick  along 
the  roof  of  the  topmost  tier.  Then  the  unhappy  islander 
turned  to  a  fifth.  It  was  in  the  grand  circle,  only  three 
off  royalty.  An  attendant  was  placing  the  chairs. 
Walter  searched  its  recesses,  and  straightway  found  — 
not  without  a  start  —  what  he  sought  so  eagerly,  the 
gleam  of  Lady  Framlingham's  diamonds. 

Lady  Muriel  Mendril  entered  next  behind  her  mother. 
She  looked  tired  already.  The  overture  began  that 
minute.  Thenceforward  Walter's  eyes  lost  sight  of  all 
things  but  the  loved  face.  Sight  and  sound,  combining, 
lapped  him  in  dreams.  Some  were  sorrowful.  The 
Swan  Song  seemed  his  dirge.  Nothing  was  left  him,  he 
reflected,  as  Mervan  dragged  his  senses  through  this 
sinuous  melody  which  breathes  the  woe  of  all  the  world, 
except  despair  and  an  heroic  death.  Others  were  vis- 
ions full  of  joy.  Never  before  had  those  figments  of  his 
brain  been  so  minute  in  detail.  He  revelled  in  them. 
It  was  an  orgy  of  preconceived  fulfilments:  a  rebound 
against  the  drudgery  of  endeavour:  the  Longing  for 
Fame  translated  into  that,  of  all  varieties  of  action  the 
least  exersive  and  the  most  satisfactory. 

First  he  ascended  the  woolsack.      Learned  leaders, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  n 

whom  in  real  life  he  knew  by  sight,  and  envied,  pros- 
trated themselves  at  the  bar  of  their  Lordships'  House 
to  imbibe  his  wisdom.  None  of  the  little  mannerisms 
that  mark  great  judges  should  be  —  were  absent,  from 
the  patient  look  of  suffering  directed  to  the  remarks  of 
some  other  noble  and  learned  lord,  to  those  ejaculations 
redolent  of  acuteness,  which  look  easy  enough,  and  cer- 
tainly are  most  effective.  Mervan  pricked  the  bubble; 
and  so  the  second  dream  was  an  unconscious  piece  of 
flattery.  He,  too,  was  a  great  singer ;  Lohengrin  his  part. 
He  could  feel  Muriel  watching  him,  as  she  had  watched 
Mervan;  while  he,  like  Mervan,  lost  himself  in  his  role; 
the  nameless,  blameless  knight  who  at  times  has  given 
his  sword  and  ring  to  others  beside  Elsa. 

It  must  be  remembered,  his  visions  represented  pic- 
tures, conceived  originally  under  conducive  circum- 
stances at  varying  times  and  places,  and  now  summoned 
afresh  by  a  consuming  hunger  that  turned  everywhere 
for  food.  At  one  period  of  his  life,  say  ten  years  back, 
and  for  about  five  months,  Von  Moltke  had  intruded 
upon  Pitt  and  Fox  and  Bright,  and  made  a  serious  strug- 
gle for  the  mastery.  The  attempt  failed:  war  as  a  path 
to  glory,  no  less  than  the  church,  surgery,  the  stage, 
fell  before  politics.  To-night,  however,  the  dreams  of 
martial  prowess  came  home  with  the  rest.  Walter  trans- 
ported himself  to  the  French  service  and  the  Eastern 
frontier  —  one  can't  fight  modern  battles  in  England; 
Sedgemoor  and  blunderbusses  forbid.  With  equal  ease, 
he  took  a  marshal's  baton  and  the  chief  command;  and, 
flinging  himself  into  the  midst  of  a  terrible  campaign, 
proceeded  to  reconquer  the  annexed  provinces.  So  far 
afield  among  shadows  will  men  go  for  admiration ;  and 
so  devoid  of  humour  are  they,  when  they  seek  it. 

The  evening  of  an  autumn  day,  and  the  close  of  the 
great  battle  that  shall  terminate  the  war.  Gaunt  and 
motionless,  he  sat  upon  his  wearied  charger,  his  face  — 
as  much  like  Moltke's  as  possible  —  composed  in  impas- 
sive folds.  A  heavy,  grey  overcoat  enveloped  him  in 
statuesque  outlines,  and  completed  the  picture.  At  his 
feet  lay  the  roar  of  battle ;  perhaps  a  wounded  soldier 
thrown  in.  He,  silent  as  death,  and  hardly  less  power- 


12  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

ful,  directed  events  to  their  fulfilment,  without  so  much 
as  a  twitching  of  the  lips.  And  so  he  came  to  the  pic- 
ture that  pleased  him  more  than  all.  The  Bridal  March 
suggested  it.  Without  the  preliminary  weariness  of 
political  clubs,  wire-pullers,  or  contested  elections,  he 
passed  to  the  front  rank  of  English  statesmen  —  becom- 
ing at  one  bound  Prime  Minister  and  the  foremost  ora- 
tor of  his  time.  The  mists  gathered,  and  cleared  again. 
Once  more  he  was  lifted  on  high,  to  be  seen  of  all  men. 
Buckingham  Palace  and  its  balcony  constitute  a  setting 
worthy  genius;  and  though  a  greater  one  than  he  was 
present,  this  only  increased  his  triumph.  The  courtyard 
below  was  thronged  with  troops  bound  for  the  wars,  and 
come  to  take  leave  of  their  sovereign.  The  Mall  held 
the  populace  in  densely  packed  masses;  and  no  soul 
there,  soldier,  civilian,  not  Majesty  itself,  but  knew  the 
master  mind  at  whose  bidding  all  this  was.  Again  the 
mists  gathered,  bringing  the  last  scene.  Within  the 
sacred  portals!  —  benches  and  galleries  crowded.  He 
was  in  the  midst  of  some  marvellous  peroration,  born 
immortal.  He  did  not  miss  a  single  detail  from  the 
scene  around  him, — not  the  piece  of  paper  that,  every 
now  and  then,  floated  to  the  littered  floor.  He  marked 
the  sea  of  eager  faces,  upturned  to  the  sea  of  light  above 
and  fixed  on  his;  he  heard  the  breathless  stillness, 
broken  only  by  those  tones  which  uttered  soft  persua- 
sion, lulling  his  foes  into  acquiescence,  binding  all  with 
fetters  of  gold.  Muriel  was  present,  fascinated  with  the 
rest;  and  this  brought  him  to  the  contemplation  of  his 
great  reward.  They  were  married,  and  passing  through 
life  in  sweet  companionship:  she,  his  constant  consoler, 
giving  him  what  comfort  lies  in  gentle  looks,  gentle 
words,  and  unlimited  admiration,  while  he  repaid  her 
with  the  protection  of  his  strong  arm,  governing  children 
and  household  with  the  benignant  firmness  he  employed 
in  governing  his  country.  How  easy  the  role  of  model 
husband  and  parent!  The  opinion  of  others  being  among 
the  chief  stimulants  a  man  has  to  virtue;  extend  the 
circle  of  those  who  think  about  him,  and  you  augment 
the  incentive.  If  we  behave  ourselves  because  we  spend 
our  days  amid  a  narrow  surrounding  of  sisters  and  cous- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  13 

ins,  we  shall  assuredly  be  saints,  when  the  time  comes 
that  we  have  the  world  our  audience.  Walter  knew  that 
his  private  life  would  be  pure  and  unselfish  and  high- 
minded,  provided  only  he  achieved  his  great  desires. 

Oh,  the  joy  of  these  wild  dreams!  How  could  he 
tell  that  they  were  the  last  of  their  race,  wanderers  re- 
turned home  to  die?  He  regarded  them  very  differently. 
The  torch  had  flickered  and  almost  expired;  but  now  it 
was  burning  as  brightly  as  before.  To  be  worthy  of 
Muriel,  of  his  great  future,  he  must  possess  his  soul  in 
patience,  ready  for  the  dawn. 

And  then  the  music  ceased,  and  coldness  came  over 
him.  He  turned  to  reach  his  hat,  and,  looking  aga*in, 
found  Muriel  gone.  Except  for  Carache,  the  box  was 
empty;  the  girl  and  her  mother  might  have  been  dreams, 
so  quickly  had  they  vanished  away. 

What  should  he  go  home  for?  To  sleep?  Sleep  was 
not  for  idlers;  and  a  braver  heart  might  well  have 
dreaded  the  prospect  of  vigil  within  those  abominable 
walls.  His  mood  was  again  despair  unutterable.  He 
turned  listlessly  into  the  slums  round  Covent  Garden. 
The  "poor"  are  always  to  be  seen;  and  Walter,  watch- 
ing the  clusters  that  hung  about  the  evil-smelling  streets, 
and  lolled  in  doorways,  thought  bitterly  of  that  larger 
army  of  poorer  men  which  is  invisible, —  half-starved 
clerks,  struggling  ushers  and  curates  and  doctors,  un- 
employed lawyers  like  himself,  and  the  host  of  those 
who  have  the  wages  of  Seven  Dials  without  its  simpler 
wants.  And  this  train  of  brooding  fancies  continued 
long  after  he  had  passed  into  the  Strand  and  mingled 
with  the  throng  of  roysterers  whose  whim  it  is  to  begin 
where  respectable  people  leave  off.  He  envied  them 
too.  Their  cheeriness  was  obviously  spontaneous.  All 
seemed  friends.  And  if  nine  tenths  were  intoxicated, 
they  could  not  pay  a  heavier  penalty  for  drunkenness 
than  he  did  for  sobriety.  They  enjoyed  life  while  life 
lasted;  basked  in  the  brilliancy  of  gin-palaces;  and  went 
to  perdition  in  battalions.  And  he — he  slunk  along  the 
shady  side  of  the  selfsame  road  without  a  single  friend. 
He  longed  for  the  companionship  of  the  drunkard  and 


14  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

the  harlot,  so  that  he  might  sink  at  least  with  some  one's 
hands  in  his.  And  at  that  moment  Some  one's  face 
shone  down  from  amid  a  radiance  of  another  kind,  and 
led  him  forth  into  silence,  beside  the  river. 

He  leant  across  the  stone  balustrade.  Not  a  soul 
was  near  him:  how  easy  to  slip  down  unseen  into  death 
and  sweet  forgetfulness!  And  what  about  to-morrow  in 
the  world  he  quitted?  His  body,  swollen  and  repulsive, 
rose  before  his  eyes.  He  heard  the  comment  of  stran- 
gers, caught  by  the  sensational  headline,  "Suicide  of  a 
Barrister,"  and  greedy  to  learn  the  history  of  yet  an- 
other incompetent  gone  to  his  death  because  life  was 
more  than  he  could  manage.  He  pictured  the  talk  of 
his  friends. — "  I  say,  old  man,  did  you  know  that  that 
barrister  who  jumped  off  the  Embankment,  a  month  ago, 
was  '  Frenchy. '  Robertson  met  him  in  Piccadilly  the 
same  afternoon:  the  poor  chap  was  looking  very  seedy 
and  depressed.  I  say,  what  a  finish  to  his  fine  ideas,  ay! 
Going  down  for  the  match?  " 

From  the  sanctuary  of  an  empty  bench  he  heard 
twelve  strike,  and  one,  then  sunk  into  a  fitful  doze.  A 
policeman  turned  the  glare  of  a  dark-lantern  on  him  and 
let  him  lie.  Other  tramps  slunk  by.  He  heeded  noth- 
ing, except  Muriel  and  his  own  misfortunes.  When  he 
dreamt,  her  face  was  everywhere,  and  once  he  started 
into  wakefulness,  uttering  her  name.  After  that,  he 
could  sleep  no  more.  He  glanced  at  his  watch;  it 
showed  close  on  three,  and  the  dawn  of  another  hateful 
day.  The  sky  eastward  showed  the  same:  in  a  final 
burst  of  passion,  he  resolved  never  to  face  the  light 
again.  He  stumbled  forward,  as  though  to  seek  the 
river,  then  sank  back,  overpowered  by  the  old  dreads. 
"I  am  beaten,"  he  murmured  with  a  sob  that  might  have 
gone  to  heaven.  "I  could  have  done  so  well — so  well; 
but  it  seems  the  chance  will  never  come.  I  accept  de- 
feat. I  submit."  No  need  of  further  words;  the  thing 
was  finished.  Long  had  he  been  hovering  on  the  deso- 
late confines.  At  last  he  was  well  inside. 

He  rose,  chilled  and  weary.  The  sky  was  passing 
into  purple.  The  dawn  had  come  to  touch  his  poor  soul 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  15 

with  crimson  fingers.  The  crisp  air  fanned  his  brow, 
and  whispered  hope.  Birds  awoke  to  sing  the  morning. 
Market-carts  lumbered  past  him,  smelling  of  the  country. 
He  almost  heard  the  low  murmur  of  the  sea;  the  sea 
which  has  neither  dawn  nor  evening,  but  always  the  same 
eternal  freshness.  It  was  the  vigour  of  things  born 
anew;  it  mingled  with  his  blood.  How  could  he  chant  a 
requiem  in  the  midst  of  youth  so  universal?  How  be 
sorrowful,  when  the  whole  world  was  glad? 

He  turned  that  he  might  watch  the  rising  sun.  The 
railway  bridge  lay  almost  over  his  head,  making  the 
foreground  of  the  broken  horizon,  and  giving  him  through 
its  trellised  ironwork  some  taste  of  the  copious  light. 
Presently  it  contributed  life  as  well.  An  unattached 
locomotive  came  forth  from  the  covered  way,  and  com- 
menced to  glide  smoothly  backwards  and  forwards, 
without  any  apparent  object  beyond  attracting  the  young 
man's  attention.  It  succeeded  with  a  shriek  of  triumph, 
and  vanished  across  the  water,  in  the  direction  of  South- 
wark.  Walter  started,  struck  by  an  idea  which  almost 
took  away  his  breath.  The  engine  had  disappeared  along 
the  line  towards  Dover, — before  heaven!  it  was  pointing 
him  to  France. 

To  France !  What  a  fool  not  to  have  thought  of  this 
before!  If  he  must  endure  a  life  of  poverty,  let  it  be  in 
the  city  which  he  loved.  That  was  all.  No  need  for 
further  argument.  The  proposition  burst  upon  him  with 
blinding  force.  He  succumbed  at  once.  Directly  the 
needful  preparations  were  completed,  he  would  leave 
England,  never  to  return.  Nay,  he  would  realize  his 
capital.  The  six  thousand  pounds,  a  legacy  from  some 
unknown  relative,  his  sole  support  hitherto,  should  buy 
him  one  year  of  gorgeous  life.  He  could  not,  of  course, 
achieve  a  tenth  part  of  his  extravagant  fancies,  but  he 
might  do  a  good  deal,  and  —  as  it  seemed  to  him  at  the 
moment — all  that  he  wanted.  And  as  he  went  swiftly 
homeward,  walking  on  air,  he  made  his  plans  for  the 
coming  twelve  months.  Dreams  no  longer;  instead, 
plain  business  calculations,  and  nothing  included  which 
he  could  not  pay  for. 

Alas!  a  point,  up  till  now  not  thought  of,  presented 


16  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

itself  as  a  bar  to  the  adventure.  The  obstacle  was  a 
certain  Count  de  Morin,  who  resided  in  Paris  and  gave 
himself  over  professedly  to  good  works.  Louis  de  Morin, 
to  recount  briefly  what  Walter  knew  of  him,  was  an 
elderly  French  nobleman,  formerly  an  under-chamberlain 
at  the  court  of  Napoleon  III.  His  father,  Richard 
Morin  had  been  confidential  valet  to  the  great  Emperor. 
After  '70  Louis  betook  himself,  with  his  title  and  a  hand- 
some competency,  to  a  small  house  in  the  Rue  Fabert, 
alongside  the  Invalides,  where  he  had  continued  to  live 
for  close  on  thirty  years,  ambling  about  town,  always 
unruffled  and  placidly  benign.  His  friendship  for  Wal- 
ter's dead  guardian  (as  the  former  had  understood)  had 
originated  in  Louis  Napoleon's  English  investments. 
He  knew  all  that  was  to  be  known  of  Walter's  circum- 
stances, his  unrenumerative  calling,  his  poverty-stricken 
life;  and  he  never  wrote  but  he  bade  him  work  and  hope. 
"Rome  was  not  built  in  a  day,"  the  Count  loved  to 
repeat.  "You  will  be  Chancellor  yet,  and  have  your 
statue  at  Antibes. "  It  would  be  humiliation  indeed  to 
come  suddenly  face  to  face  with  this  keen  old  gentleman, 
and  have  to  confess  that  he  had  thrown  away  hope  and 
endeavour,  and  was  buying  a  single  year's  enjoyment 
with  the  price  of  his  life.  For  a  time  his  brain  sought 
other  alternatives.  Why  not  disappear  into  the  unknown, 
where  one  always  prospers?  —  India,  for  choice,  the 
labour-house  of  many  happier  friends. 

No,  no;  it  must  be  Paris. 

So  he  reached  his  doorstep,  and  turned  to  take  a  last 
vindictive  look  at  Lupus  Street.  Somehow  it  seemed  less 
hateful.  It  meant  the  city  which  once  he  had  loved 
ardently  enough — in  days  when  he  had  regarded  it  as  the 
scene  of  his  anticipated  triumphs.  That  was  a  time 
indeed  when  he  could  not  bear  to  leave  it  for  an  hour, 
grudging  as  wasted  every  minute  not  spent  within  its 
walls. 

Yes,  but  his  misery  had  banished  all  that.  Remorse- 
lessly cruel,  the  great  city  went  upon  its  way,  draining 
the  life-blood  of  those  who  came  to  serve  it.  He  detested 
its  vanity;  for  he  endued  the  city,  as  a  whole,  with  the 
characteristics  of  some  of  its  inhabitants,  who  fancy  that 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  17 

the  exclusive  road  to  fame  lies  through  the  capital.  He 
would  demonstrate  how  false  this  was.  Others  might 
choose  to  wait  with  humble  front  for  the  smallest  token 
of  relenting;  not  he!  life  elsewhere  offered  something 
better. 

He  laughed  nervously,  and  shook  his  fist  at  the  houses 
opposite.  Lupus  Street,  so  far  as  one  could  see  on  either 
side,  was  empty.  The  spirit  moved  him.  Voice  and 
hand  uplifted,  he  broke  into  the  well-known  lines: 

.     .     .     thus  I  turn  my  back: 

There  is  a  world  elsewhere; 
then  turned  his  back  and  disappeared  indoors. 


Chapter   II 


The  night  journey  to  Paris,  itself  delightful,  brought  a 
chance  meeting  worth  more  than  all.  At  Calais  the 
train  was  nearly  empty.  Walter,  on  his  return  from  the 
buffet,  found  an  intruder  in  the  farther  corner  of  his  com- 
partment, a  young  man  who  surveyed  him  with  lazy 
indifference.  "Hullo,  Sadler,"  this  stranger  drawled 
out  presently,  "I  have  n't  seen  you  forages."  It  was 
Lord  Mendril. 

Walter's  heart  quickened.  "  Not  since  we  were  at 
Oxford,"  he  managed  to  reply.  My  lord,  less  diffident, 
proceeded  to  put  our  hero  through  his  paces,  and  dis- 
covered that  he  was  a  gentleman  of  independent  means, 
who  lived  most  of  his  time  in  Paris.  And  while  he  was 
thus  exercising  the  privilege  of  his  class,  Sadler  searched 
his  face  for  some  likeness  to  Muriel.  He  found  a  strik- 
ing resemblance  to  Lady  Framlingham.  Like  her,  the 
young  fellow  was  dark  and  French-looking,  with  black 
eyes  and  a  fair  complexion.  The  down  on  his  lip  could 
not  hide  her  weak  mouth;  there  was  the  same  droop 
about  the  corners.  And  being  thus  engaged,  the  bar- 
rister forgot  to  answer  the  other's  queries,  and  they 
went  along  in  silence  for  a  time  in  the  dim-lit  swaying 
carriage,  until  Mendril  grew  tired  of  this  scrutiny,  and 
broke  forth  into  fresh  questions  mixed  with  views  on  life 
generally. 

He  turned  next  to  French  politics;  how  Carache  (who 
was  in  the  train)  was  going  home  to  change  places  with 
Ponte"coulant,  the  Premier.  Then,  in  a  month  or  less, 
when  the  Assembly  should  have  upset  Carache,  Ponte- 
coulant  would  retake  the  lead,  and  Carache  slip  back 
into  his  old  office.  This  game  of  hot  potatoes  had  been 
going  on  for  several  years.  "  It  remains  now — " 
18 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  19 

"  The  Orleanists?  "  hazarded  Walter,  bored  to  death. 

"  No  leader.  As  for  the  Imperialists,  that  lost  Bona- 
parte paralyzes  Victor." 

"What  lost  Bonaparte?"  moaned  our  hero,  already 
half  asleep. 

"You  live  in  Paris  and  do  not  know  that?  Any  child 
can  tell  you  that  Victor  is  not  the  real  head  of  the 
family.  A  more  direct  article  exists  somewhere.  But 
where?  —  that  is  the  trouble:  herding  goats,  perhaps,  in 
Corsica."  Then  Mendril  resumed  personalities.  "Some- 
how I  had  an  idea, ' '  he  said,  '  'that  you  were  a  barrister. ' ' 

Sadler  gave  a  sickly  smile.  "  I  fear  nothing  so  hon- 
ourable. I  am  a  mere  miserable  rentier,  a  man  whose 
sole  aim  in  life  is  to  kill  time." 

"  I  presume  you  have  some  interests?  " 

"  Really  I  do  n't  believe  I  have.  I  had,  but  that  time 
is  past.  No,  I  shall  die  what  I  was  born,  a  wretched 
rentier.  I  shall  hover  between  London  and  Paris,  with 
occasional  winters  in  Cannes,  and  a  trip  or  two  to  India. 
Whereas  if  I  had,  say,  six  thousand  pounds  between  me 
and  the  world,  I  might  do  something,  become  a  success- 
ful blanket-maker  or  leading  Q.C. ;  I  might  even  get 
into  the  House  of  Commons  and  serve  on  committees, 
and  feel  at  the  end  of  life  that  it  had  not  been  altogether 
wasted." 

"I  can  sympathize  with  you,"  said  Mendril  genially. 
"Your  case  is  my  own." 

"You  won't  make  me  think  that,"  Walter  replied, 
encouraged  into  an  affectation  of  abruptness;  "your 
wings  are  not  clipped  like  mine.  To  begin  with,,  you 
need  n't  pine  for  yachts  and  moors — " 

"If  a  moor  can  make  you  happy,"  Mendril  laughed, 
"you  must  come  one  year  to  us  in  Scotland." 

Sadler's  face  tingled.  "I  shall  be  delighted,"  he  said. 
"You  know  what  I  mean;  I  use  'yachts  and  moors' 
merely  as  a  concrete  illustration  of  the  power  which  a 
fellow  can't  get  from  a  beggarly  fifteen  hundred  a  year." 

"I  call  fifteen  hundred  a  year  very  good,"  murmured 
Lord  Mendril  in  tones  of  gentle  reproach.  Walter  felt 
tempted  to  say,  "So  do  I."  He  shook  his  head  gloomily : 
"Not  for  a  man  who  wants  to  '  live.'  " 


20  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"No,  perhaps  not,"  acquiesced  the  other  Walter. 
If  only  our  hero  could  have  stopped  there.  "Now 
your  case  is  very  different.  You  are  not  hemmed  in. 
Confess,  you  have  a  seat  waiting  for  you.  With  you,  an 
under-secretaryship,  once  you  are  in,  can  only  be  a  ques- 
tion of  a  few  years;  you  would — would? — w///soon  be  on 
the  Treasury  bench.  You  have  shown  me  how  well  in- 
formed you  are  in  French  politics" — Walter  smiled  win- 
ningly  at  the  face  opposite.  It  was  staring  at  him  in 
blank  amazement — "I  make  no  doubt  you  are  equally 
well  up  in  English.  Own  it,  you  are  aiming  at  the  Pre- 
miership?" 

That  minute  a  station  clattered  by  them.  Lord  Men- 
dril  peered  out  of  the  window,  then  muttered,  "Creil  "; 
and  there  was  a  deal  of  significance  in  his  voice.  He 
said  no  more.  And  arrived  at  their  destination,  he  gath- 
ered up  his  wraps  so  as  to  fill  both  hands,  and  with  a 
curt  nod  disappeared  onto  the  platform.  It  was  a  dis- 
appointing exit  after  such  geniality.  Walter  felt  it.  Nor 
was  he  roused  from  his  chagrin  by  coming  face  to  face 
with  Carache,  who  stared  and  seemed  on  the  point  of 
speaking  to  him,  but  did  not,  passing  on,  instead,  with 
the  greatest  reluctance.  What  was  Carache  compared 
to  Muriel?  Alas!  it  looked  as  though  this  first  chance 
had  been  frittered  away. 

Engrossed,  however,  in  the  delightful  occupation  of 
constructing  the  new  life,  Sadler  soon  forgot  about  Lord 
Mendril;  and  even  Muriel  faded  into  the  background. 
The  year  had  begun.  Many  preparations  had  to  be  made 
before  he  could  sit  down  to  its  full  enjoyment. 

Our  hero  alighted  at  the  Terminus  Hotel,  weary  and 
travel-stained,  but  full  of  eagerness.  Before  ten  he  was 
on  the  b  ulevards,  busy  with  the  foundations  of  his  fairy 
castle.  There  were  things,  of  course,  which  could  not, 
by  any  stretch  of  ingenuity,  be  purchased  until  his  flat 
came  into  actual  being.  But  what  he  could  buy  there 
and  then,  he  did.  Oh,  the  ivory-handled  brushes  and 
tortoise-shell  combs!  the  razors  and  scents  and  soaps! 
Boots  and  shoes,  too,  and  every  description  of  wearing- 
apparel — in  a  word,  a  veritable  trousseau,  mingled  with 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  21 

a  dash  of  the  conventional  colonial  outfit.  In  the  mat- 
ter of  furniture,  his  purse  ran  riot,  striving  to  incarnate 
so  many  departed  dreams.  Wonderful  chairs  and  inlaid 
tables,  dainty  little  sofas  for  nooks  not  yet  created, 
desks  for  alcoves  which  he  might  have  to  hew  out  of 
solid  wall.  It  was  his  mood — he  could  not  wait.  Glass 
and  china  involved  less  risk,  while  still  exercising  all  his 
talent.  He  selected  a  dessert  service  which  the  pro- 
prietor declared  was  the  most  beautiful  thing  in  the  shop. 
It  was  likewise  the  most  expensive.  The  common  crock- 
ery, the  brooms,  the  very  mattresses,  received  attention. 
But  choosing  wines  gave  fullest  play  to  the  bizarre  ele- 
ment in  his  nature;  that  whimsical  leaning  towards  every 
spot  where  he  did  n't  happen  to  be  at  the  moment.  The 
recommendation  about  his  claret  was  not  so  much  its 
velvet  taste  and  delicious  odour,  as  the  atmosphere — 
and  labels — of  Rauzan-Gassies,  Latour,  and  Lafite,  which 
it  brought  in  its  train.  He  literally  went  on  tour  through 
the  Haut  Sauternes.  Chateau  Y'quem,  Chambertin,  Ru- 
dersheimer,  Asmannshausen,  Capri,  and  Old  East  India 
contributed  to  this  curious  taste.  His  cellar  promised 
to  be  mainly  a  matter  of  geography;  and  the  bad  habit 
that  obtains  among  bereaved  champagne-growers  of  call- 
ing their  produce  after  their  own  names  caused  him  genu- 
ine annoyance.  So  also  with  tobacco,  where  the  results 
might  have  proved  fatal.  Walter  was  no  smoker.  Ham- 
burg suggested  something  to  him;  La  Intimidad:  Ex- 
celsos  did  not.  He  made  a  desperate  fight  to  buy  the 
former,  only  giving  in  when  the  dealer  smoked  one  for 
his  benefit.  Books  formed  another  item;  statuary  and 
pictures;  even  a  pair  of  antlers  (in  memory,  perhaps,  of 
Lord  Mendril's  moor) ;  in  fact,  a  list  of  such  marvellous 
completeness  as  six  years'  brooding  alone  could  have 
produced. 

He  bought  a  couple  of  carriages;  engaged  the  ser- 
vants; and  then  at  last  had  to  stop — just  past  noon,  three 
days  after  his  arrival  in  Paris.  At  his  hotel  he  found  a 
note  from  a  house-agent.  It  enclosed  orders  to  view 
two  flats.  One  was  a  treasure  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin,  be- 
longing to  M.  Verre,  the  ex-Premier.  The  other  was 
also  a  gem,  in  the  Rue  du  Bac;  if  anything,  perhaps  a 


22  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

little  better  situated.  The  present  occupant,  so  wrote 
the  agent,  waxing  biographical  in  his  desire  to  fix  this 
wealthy  client,  was  a  widow  lady,  Madame  Brisson, 
mother  of  the  Colonel  Brisson  who  commanded  a  regi- 
ment of  engineers.  The  outside  view  of  the  apartment 
prepossessed  Walter  in  its  favour.  He  rang  the  bell, 
feeling  instinctively  that  he  would  know  the  sound  better 
by  and  by. 

Madame  gave  him  a  gracious  reception.  As  an  answer 
to  his  request  that  the  servant  might  show  him  over  and 
then  out,  the  lady  smilingly  beckoned  him  to  a  chair. 
Her  hair  was  snow-white,  her  face  very,  very  pale ;  though 
this  pallor  was  probably  heightened  by  her  black  dress, 
which,  even  when  she  was  seated,  showed  her  stately 
figure  to  advantage.  A  touch  of  haughtiness,  capable 
of  deepening  considerably,  as  Walter  soon  discovered, 
marred  the  sweetness  of  her  expression. 

They  talked  a  while  on  indifferent  topics — the  weather, 
and  the  longing  one  felt  for  the  country  these  hot  days. 
She  was  going  there,  provided  she  let  her  flat.  Her  son, 
Colonel  Brisson,  had  no  use  for  home  any  longer;  "  they 
intend  to  move  him  to  Nancy;  so  I  can  end  my  days  at 
Troyes,  where  I  was  born."  Her  charming  frankness 
had  its  effect  on  Walter:  his  hostess  was  good  enough 
to  express  surprise  when  she  learnt  that  he  was  an 
Englishman. 

"But  Monsieur  is  absolutely  without  accent,"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Surely  he  must  have  lived  long  in  France. " 

"No,"  replied  Walter  dubiously,  his  brain  mystified 
by  the  half-forgotten  lies  which  he  had  told  Lord  Men- 
dril;  "no;  I  am  an  English  barrister." 

"A  noble  profession.  Monsieur  perhaps  means  to 
practise  as  an  English  advocate  in  Paris?" 

"Exactly.  A  small  opening  —  and  —  and  London  is 
so  terribly  sad." 

"London  is  not  alone  in  that,"  she  murmured,  then 
added  more  cheerfully: 

"Monsieur  has  travelled  much  over  our  country? — 
not  Provence?  Ah,  you  must  go  there.  Along  that  coast 
one  spot  is  more  beautiful  than  another." 

"You  frequently  visit  the  south?" 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  23 

"  Not  since  my  husband's  death:  he  died  at  Cannes. 
Not  at  all,  you  could  not  be  expected  to  know.  He  was 
wounded  in  the  war,  and  died  some  months  later.  Ah, 
Monsieur,  what  a  crime  that  was!  For  that  alone  the 
Bonapartes  can  never  hope  to  return.  At  least  the  Re- 
public has  given  us  over  twenty-seven  years'  unbroken 
peace.  It  will  be  an  ill  day — ah,  but  that  can  never 
happen." 

Sadler  grasped  her  meaning.  It  was  a  reference  to 
the  lost  Bonaparte  hidden  away  somewhere  in  the  wilds 
of  Corsica,  concerning  whom  Lord  Mendril  had  spoken. 
Madame  went  on:  "Others  know  the  bare  fact;  very 
few  know  the  reason.  I  know,  and  Jean  knows,  and 
Monsieur  de  Morin  knows  and — " 

Walter  was  bolt  upright. 

"  Monsieur  is  acquainted  with  the  Count?" 

"  No,  indeed  not." 

"  He  is  a  clever  man,  and  I  have  good  reason  to  be 
grateful  to  him.  But  I  have  been  talking  about  matters 
which  cannot  possibly  interest  Monsieur.  He  must  for- 
give me:  we  are  all  so  excited  in  Paris  just  now.  Had 
it  not  been  for  the  President  and  those  good  men  MM. 
Pontecoulant  and  Carache,  the  Republic  must  have  suc- 
cumbed. But  whatever  happens  to  the  Republic,  none 
of  them  can  return." 

Walter  felt  no  interest.  Or  if  he  did — only  to  this 
extent,  that  things  might  go  on  quietly  until  he  had  come 
to  the  end  of  his  six  thousand  pounds.  He  said  as  much. 

Madame  reassured  him. 

"There  is  nothing  to  fear." 

"You  take  a  weight  off  my  mind." 

"  M.  Carache  has  to-day  settled  his  ministry — you  have 
heard,  without  doubt.  Pontecoulant  is  to  be  foreign 
minister;  in  fact,  the  two  change  places.  The  kind  God 
preserve  us  from  war!" 

She  sighed  and  glanced  at  a  small  miniature  of  the 
great  Napoleon,  which  was  set  above  the  face  of  the 
clock.  She  started,  looked  sharply  at  Walter,  turned 
again  to  the  miniature,  then  subjected  the  visitor's  face 
to  a  second  scrutiny.  She  still  had  hold  of  his  card ;  she 
glanced  hastily  down  at  it.  "  Walter  Sadler?  "  she  mut- 


24  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

tered,  "Walter  Sadler?"  and  then  a  sudden  light  came 
into  her  face.  She  rose  to  her  feet.  "Your  Royal 
Highness,"  said  she  passionately,  "is  behaving  in  a  very 
cruel  and  cowardly  fashion." 

Walter  sat  glued  to  his  chair,  gazing  at  her  in  hopeless 
bewilderment. 

"You  are  behaving  in  a  very  cruel  and  cowardly 
fashion,"  she  repeated  angrily, — "in  a  very  cruel  and 
cowardly  fashion.  I  am  not  afraid  to  tell  you  so  to  your 
face." 

"But  I  am  Walter  Sadler  —  a  barrister,"  gasped  out 
our  hero. 

"Your  Highness  is  good  enough  to  laugh  at  me. 
This  is  one  of  those  domiciliary  visits  with  which  we  are 
all  familiar.  In  heaven's  name" — passing  from  scorn 
to  piteous  pleading — "spare  me,  and  go  to  those  who  can 
give  you  the  lives  of  their  dear  ones  without  being  ren- 
dered absolutely  desolate." 

"  Really — "  faltered  Walter,  "  I  don't  know  what  to 
say  or  do?"  He  began  to  wonder  whether  the  Due 
d'Orleans  wore  a  beard. 

"You  are  all  alike,  you  Bonapartes.  Fair  words  to 
cover  your  treachery." 

So  that  was  it.  His  likeness  to  the  first  Napoleon, 
added  to  her  own  highly  wrought  condition,  had  resulted 
in  this  strange  fancy.  Evidently  she  spent  her  existence 
on  the  look-out  for  the  lostling,  of  whom  every  one 
appeared  to  have  heard,  save  himself.  No  doubt  she 
suffered  from  monomania;  it  struck  him  that  her  eyes 
bore  the  trace  of  madness.  And  he  was  the  Corsican 
goatherd  come  to  claim  his  own !  He  bethought  him  of 
his  dead  guardian,  the  quintessence  of  respectability;  of 
his  own  humdrum  days  at  their  suburban  home;  of  Win- 
chester and  Oxford  and  the  Temple, — all  of  them  such  a 
long  way  off  the  Corsican  mountains,  where  the  real 
article  was  doubtless  at  this  moment  playing  simultane- 
ously on  two  pipes  and  watching  half  a  dozen  goats. 
The  bare  contrast  nearly  sent  him  into  a  burst  of  boister- 
ous laughter. 

He  determined  to  humour  her.      "Madame  has  been 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  25 

led  astray  by  my  likeness  to  Napoleon.  Believe  me,  it  is 
a  resemblance  of  which  I  am  no  longer  proud." 

Madame  tapped  her  foot  impatiently  on  the  ground. 
"  Why  do  you  play  with  me?  There  are  other — "  she 
stopped  abruptly,  turning  to  the  somewhat  lame  conclu- 
sion, "Your  likeness  puts  the  matter  beyond  a  doubt. 
You  have  come  to  take  my — " 

"I  repeat  to  you,  you  are  wrong,"  he  said,  on  his 
side  beginning  to  lose  patience.  "Cannot  you  believe 
my  oath?  " 

"  I  expected  oaths." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  turning  at  the  same 
minute  to  take  his  hat  from  the  table  beside  him.  She 
no  sooner  saw  his  intention  than  she  seemed  seized  with 
a  feverish  desire  to  get  him  out  of  the  place  as  quickly  as 
possible.  She  swallowed  her  indignation  sufficiently  to 
hold  forth  a  lifeless  hand.  She  ventured  to  bow,  all  the 
while  edging  him  closer  to  the  door. 

But  the  manoeuvre  failed.  The  door  swung  open 
before  she  touched  it.  Her  son  entered.  Walter  had  no 
difficulty  in  making  out  the  relationship;  albeit  the  new- 
comer was  gaunt  and  iron-grey,  nearer  fifty  than  forty, 
and  resembling  Don  Quixote  most  of  any  human  being. 
Madame  and  he  had  height  in  common.  They  held 
themselves  like  steel  ramrods. 

His  mother's  face,  Walter's  as  well,  bore  unmistak- 
able traces  of  battle.  Colonel  Brisson  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  in  surprise. 

"The  Prince  has  come,"  said  the  woman  sullenly. 

Brisson  started.  "Walter  Sadler?  "  he  asked  of  her 
in  an  excited  whisper,  which  did  not  reach  Walter's  ears. 
She  nodded.  Without  another  word  he  sprang  to  where 
the  young  barrister  was  standing,  and  flung  himself  upon 
his  knees  at  the  latter's  feet. 

"Welcome  home,  your  Majesty!  " 

This  put  the  matter  beyond  a  doubt.  The  mother's 
monomonia  not  only  existed,  but  was  such  a  stern  reality 
that  it  had  infected  the  son.  Walter,  with  his  habitual 
acuteness,  which  he  owed  to  nature  rather  than  practice, 
saw  at  once  how  the  whole  thing  lay.  Here  were  two  peo- 
ple, Imperialist  by  tradition, and  consequently  predisposed 


26  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

to  keep  one  eye  open  for  the  coming  of  the  lost  Bona- 
parte, whose  minds  had  been  unstrung  by  the  instability 
of  affairs.  Possibly  they  did  not  even  go  so  far  afield 
among  absurdities  as  to  suppose  him  to  be  the  Corsican 
goatherd,  but  mistook  him  for  Victor,  who  no  doubt 
bore  some  more  accountable  resemblance  to  the  chief  of 
the  race,  and  made  the  most  of  it. 

And  yet  —  and  yet  —  the  homage  of  this  gaunt  Don- 
Quixote-looking  man  was  intensely  sweet. 

"Please  do  not  kneel  to  me.  Cannot  you  see  that 
you  are  placing  me  in  a  very  ridiculous  position?  "  The 
more  ardent  portion  of  this  appeal  was  wrung  from  Wal- 
ter's lips  by  an  attempt  on  Brisson's  part  to  kiss  his 
hand.  This  is  a  process  requiring  more  practice  than 
even  visions  afford  before  a  man  can  submit  to  it  with 
any  sort  of  grace. 

"Jean,"  Madame  cried  out,  dragging  her  son  from 
off  his  knees,  and  not  over-gently  either,  "I  will  not 
suffer  this  treason.  You  are  a  soldier  of  the  Republic; 
you  shall  not  betray  it." 

He  was  turning  on  her  with  a  violent  answer,  but 
Walter  lifted  his  hand, — already  infected  by  Brisson's 
homage, — and  the  latter  left  the  fierce  words  unspoken. 

"Enough  of  this,"  exclaimed  our  hero.  "I  cannot 
make  either  of  you  believe  my  story.  At  least  let  me 
depart  in  peace." 

"  His  Majesty  will  surely  permit  me  to  escort  him  to 
the  Rue  Fabert?  " 

This  was  the  second  time  Walter  started  at  a  reference 
to  De  Morin.  But  the  whole  thing  was  more  than  his 
brain  could  manage  at  the  moment.  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  suffering  that  to  stand  as  his  answer. 

Brisson  repeated  the  question. 

"  I  do  not  understand  what  you  mean.  I  am  not 
going  to  the  Rue  Fabert.  I  do  not  know  where  it  is.  I 
have  never  heard  it  mentioned  before  to-day.  I  am 
going  straight  to  my  hotel.  Please  allow  me  to  pass." 

"Then  the  Count  de  Morin  is  not  in  Paris?"  hesi- 
tated Brisson. 

"  How  can  I  tell?  "  Walter  cried  with  attempted  flip- 
pancy. "  I  do  not  know  him" ;  but  the  uneasy  suspicion 


THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON  27 

flitted  through  his  mind  that  this  was  some  huge  prac- 
tical joke  devised  by  the  Count  to  demonstrate  the  fool- 
ishness of  this  wild  freak  of  his.  When  we  live  in  per- 
petual contemplation  of  our  own  thoughts  and  doings, 
we  forget  that  the  rest  of  the  world  has  something  else 
to  think  about. 

A  sudden  idea  struck  him.  "  Tell  me  this,"  he  asked  of 
Brisson,  "  who  do  you  suppose  I  am?  "  The  other  raised 
his  shoulders  in  deprecation  of  so  childish  a  question. 

"Very  well,"  said  Sadler.     "Anyhow,  let  me  hear 
what  it  is  that  has  made  you  think  that  I  am  he  —  who- 
ever he  may  be  —  for  whom  you  take  me?" 
Brisson  glanced  dubiously  at  his  mother. 
"Your  obvious  likeness  to  the   first  Napoleon,"  he 
began  in  great  perplexity.     Madame  had  subsided  into  a 
condition  of  cheerless  disdain. 
'Well?"  urged  Walter. 
'  Then  the  story  about  the  rightful  heir." 
'  Ah,  so  you  take  me  to  be  the  rightful  heir?  " 
'Most  certainly,"  Brisson  replied  blankly. 
'But  why?" 

'  Your  obvious  likeness,  and  your  na — " 
'Jean!  "  broke  in  Madame  with  warning  voice. 
Jean,    whose    grizzled   face    hardly    looked   a   fitting 
subject  for  parental  discipline,   gazed  helplessly  about 
him.     "Your  obvious  likeness,"  he  repeated  lamely. 

"Really,  Monsieur,"  came  the  sharp  answer,  "you  do 
less  than  justice  to  your  common  sense.  My  name  is 
Walter  Sadler,  for  the  hundredth  time,  and  I  am  an 
Englishman.  I  have  lived  all  my  life  in  London.  My 
parents — " 

He  stopped  in  the  midst  of  this  new  sentence.  Per- 
haps Madame  read  his  thoughts.  "I  am  tempted  to 
believe,  after  all,"  said  she  softly,  "that  Monsieur  is 
right.  Now  I  come  to  look  well  into  Monsieur's  face,  I 
find  the  likeness  much  less  striking." 

"If  Monseigneur  desires,  to  remain  unknown,"  Bris- 
son assented,  laying  a  hand  upon  the  knob,  "at  least 
he  will  leave  us  his  address.  As  for  me,  I  am  to  be 
found  at  the  barracks  in  the  Rue  de  Penthievre, "  and 
the  worthy  fellow  blushed. 


28  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"The  Terminus  Hotel,"  Walter  murmured  mechan- 
ically and  with  eyes  staring.  The  Colonel  went  with 
him  even  to  the  street  door,  much  beyond  his  mother's 
jurisdiction.  At  parting  he  bowed  as  to  an  ordinary 
visitor.  The  barrister,  however,  heard  a  muttered  fare- 
well, "  Monseigneur,  aurevoir!" 

The  latter  stood  for  awhile  dazed  and  motionless. 
Who  were  his  parents?  For  answer,  the  merest  breath  of 
remembrance  that  he  had  only  come  to  Harrow  after  a 
long  journey  and  many  changes;  that  before  his  arrival 
there  everything  in  his  life  had  been  chaos  enshrining 
the  ghosts  of  tear-stained  faces  that  circled  round  his 
infantile  person,  looking  down  at  him  with  unceasing 
pity.  Surely  the  thing  began  to  piece  itself  together  in 
a  marvellous  way.  He  was  the  Prince,  without  a  doubt, 
hidden  by  some  one,  for  some  reason,  up  till  this  present 
hour.  Some  one? — say  at  once  De  Morin,  who  should 
learn  that  his  schemes  had  failed.  Pish! — here  was  he 
building  up  a  magnificent  fabric  on  the  ravings  of  two 
lunatics.  He  must  have  more  to  go  on  than  his  myste- 
rious origin  before  he  could  satisfy  even  himself  that  he 
was  the  long-hidden  Napoleon. 

And  as  for  rushing  round  to  the  Rue  Fabert  with 
reproaches,  the  thing  was  madness.  He  must  manage 
De  Morin  very  gently,  not  breathing  a  word  about  the 
Brissons  or  his  own  suspicion,  but  giving  the  old  fellow 
an  unvarnished  account  of  his  late  miserable  life,  thus 
tacitly  inviting  a  recital  of  the  story  so  long  withheld. 

The  whole  business,  he  thought,  would  afford  him  a 
chance  of  showing  what  was  in  him — tact,  finesse,  above 
all,  coolness  of  judgment.  His  lightest  act  upon  this 
eventful  afternoon  would  one  day  be  history.  At  last  he 
was  on  the  great  stage !  and  as  he  went  towards  the  Rue 
Fabert  he  hugged  himself  with  a  new-found  satisfaction. 

At  De  Morin's  door  he  met  with  check  number  one. 
The  Count  was  absent  at  Aix-les-Bains,  and  would  re- 
main there  till  the  end  of  the  month.  His  address, 
Poste  Restante, — the  servant  could  give  no  information 
beyond  that. 

This  rebuff  upset  Walter's  calmness.  He  no  longer 
suspended  judgment  on  De  Morin's  conduct.  The  latter 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  29 

had  been  guilty  of  abominable  treachery.  Nor  was  it 
hard  to  suggest  a  motive.  In  all  human  probability  the 
wretch  had  embezzled  Walter's  inheritance.  But  he 
should  pay  a  heavy  price;  and  the  young  fellow  indulged 
in  an  ugly  laugh  as  he  pictured  the  old  fox  coming,  in 
the  midst  of  his  morning  glass,  face  to  face  with  the  man 
he  had  so  cruelly  wronged. 

A  train  to  Aix,  he  discovered  on  inquiry  at  his  hotel, 
was  just  departing,  while  the  next  did  not  leave  before 
night.  Sadler  hung  about  between  his  bedroom  and 
the  boulevards,  rehearsing  how  he  should  beard  the 
delinquent  when  they  met.  In  the  midst  of  a  bock  and 
an  harangue  on  the  duties  of  honest  trustees,  he  be- 
thought him  suddenly  of  Colonel  Brisson.  He  started 
off  instantly  for  the  barracks  in  the  Rue  de  Penthievre. 
An  orderly  received  him  at  the  Colonel's  quarters  and 
administered  check  number  two. 

"Is  Colonel  Brisson  in? "  Walter  inquired,  breath- 
lessly eager. 

"  No,  Monsieur.  He  was  here  two  hours  ago,  but  not 
since." 

"Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  when  he  will  be  back?" 

"  No,  Monsieur." 

"When  is  he  usually  back  of  an  afternoon?" 

"About  now,"  the  servant  answered,  first  consulting 
a  huge  timepiece. 

Walter  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief.     "Good;  I  will  wait." 

"I  am  afraid  Monsieur  will  have  to  wait  a  long 
time." 

"But  you  said  that  he  would  be  back  about  now." 

"Pardon  me;  I  never  said  so." 

"But  usually — " 

"Ah  'usually'  is  different.  My  master  will  not  be 
back  at  his  usual  hour  to-day." 

"Where  is  he? " 

"In  the  train,"  the  man  stolidly  replied,  then  ob- 
serving that  the  visitor  had  had  enough  of  his  soldierly 
precision,  he  added:  "The  Colonel  has  gone  to  Aix." 

Walter  turned  away  in  silence,  a  chill, at  his  heart.  It 
was  fear.  He  trembled  to  find  himself  thus  suddenly 
the  figure  round  which  others  worked  and  took  long 


30  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

journeys:  his  life  had  not  fitted  him  for  so  uncanny  a 
position.  He  fled  back  to  the  boulevards  and  another 
bock. 

What  would  happen  at  Aix?  De  Morin  would  know 
how  to  persuade  this  honest  but  weak  Brisson  to  any- 
thing, and  was  likely  to  use  his  power,  once  he  learnt  of 
Walter's  arrival.  Was  it  to  be  supposed  that  the  Count, 
old  in  cunning  as  in  years,  treacherous,  would  patiently 
abide  the  coming  vengeance?  He  must  be  cautious:  he 
was  sure  to  hear  from  Aix  before  long;  the  message 
probably  an  assassin's  dagger.  To  proceed  thither 
would  be  to  place  his  head  into  the  lion's  jaw.  He  must 
await  the  development  of  events. 

Presently,  remembering  that  he  was  a  Bonaparte,  he 
commenced  to  mutter  "kismet,"  and  so  loafed  out  the 
remainder  of  the  evening  on  the  boulevards,  imbibing 
bocks.  When  he  got  finally  to  his  hotel  —  it  was  near- 
ing  midnight — he  felt  far  too  worried  to  sleep.  He  tried 
the  papers.  Naturally  enough  he  could  not  take  in  a 
single  line;  but  went  back,  and  back,  as  the  minutes 
ran,  to  the  contemplation  of  late  events. 

All  was  conjecture  and  hypothesis.  How  did  he  know 
that  he  was  the  missing  Prince?  Why  should  De  Morin 
be  hostile?  If  De  Morin  were  hostile,  would  the  weak 
Colonel  disclose  his  address?  With  these  thoughts  chas- 
ing each  other  through  his  brain,  one  instant  he  was  for 
starting  up  and  catching  the  night  train  for  Aix ;  the 
next,  for  saving  the  English  boat;  always,  in  the  end, 
remaining  glued  to  his  chair,  prostrate  and  inert. 

All  his  thinking  life  had  he  been  crying  unto  the  Lord 
to  grant  him  some  great  occasion.  At  the  moment  his 
need  was  wellnigh  passed  endurance,  the  occasion  had 
been  given  him, —  and  then  —  and  then  he  could  not 
use  it. 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  even  questioned  his  own 
capacity;  and  they  proved  doubts  easily  allayed.  His 
sluggishness  was  a  foreign  importation  from  the  miseries 
of  recent  years.  A  freer  life  would  banish  it,  as  God's 
bright  air  some  nauseating  vapour.  Besides,  he  did  not 
propose  to  run  away  from  Paris,  and  it  was  obvious  he 
could  not  sally  forth  there  and  then  to  raise  the  banner 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  31 

of  the  lost  Napoleon.  No,  no, —  and  he  muttered  as 
much  out  loud,  though  in  the  public  reading-room, — any 
strong  man  thrown  into  the  midst  of  such  shadows  would 
act  in  identically  the  same  way.  He  must  watch  and  wait, 
though  he  had  n't  the  faintest  idea  how  he  should  do 
either.  The  other  occupants  of  the  room  thought  that 
he  was  on  his  way  to  Charenton  "with  a  friend."  De- 
spite these  reassuring  reflections,  he  sought  his  couch 
unconvinced.  A  small  table,  bought  that  very  day,  and 
delivered  at  the  hotel  by  mistake,  lay  in  a  corner.  He 
examined  it  listlessly;  it  was  inlaid,  a  piece  of  delicate 
marquetry,  supported  on  a  rim,  and  tapering  legs  of  pol- 
ished wood.  He  caressed  its  shining  surface,  and  be- 
thought him  how  it  would  help  the  other  glories  of  his 
drawing-room.  His  last  look,  before  switching  off  the 
electric  light,  was  turned  lovingly  in  its  direction.  The 
result  proved  most  satisfactory.  The  delicate  shape 
acted  as  a  sedative,  lulling  him  into  that  resigned  spirit 
which  alone  induces  sleep. 


Chapter   III 


It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  inlaid  table  pro- 
cured Walter  more  than  a  single  night's  oblivion,  or  that 
the  three  weeks  which  this  chapter  purports  to  cover 
was  not  also  a  period  of  torturing  anxiety,  because  one 
of  much  apparent  happiness.  Indeed,  not  a  day  passed 
without  some  repetition,  in  a  more  or  less  modified  form, 
of  those  confused  fears  and  jumbled  arguments  that  had 
floated  through  his  brain  on  the  afternoon  of  the  Brisson 
incident;  and  many  a  time  did  he  hasten  round  to  the 
flat  in  the  Rue  Fabert,  led  by  a  sudden  and  ungovernable 
impulse,  only  to  stop  dead  upon  the  threshold,  not  dar- 
ing to  risk  the  chance  of  an  interview  with  its  sinister 
inhabitant.  And  as  time  went  on,  and  there  came  no 
sign  of  life  from  Aix,  he  became  more  and  more  con- 
vinced that  he  was  the  missing  Bonaparte,  and  De  Morin 
a  traitor.  These  two  convictions  grew  to  haunt  him 
wherever  he  went.  So  that  in  the  most  brilliant  draw- 
ing-room—  and,  thanks  to  Madame  Verre,  he  visited 
many  very  brilliant  —  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  own 
crown  or  De  Morin's  dagger.  But  he  had  decided  at 
the  beginning  that  he  must  "  watch  and  wait  "  ;  in  other 
words,  that  he  must  go  on  with  his  new  existence,  and 
suffer  things  to  take  their  course.  Accordingly,  he  went 
on  with  his  new  existence,  spending  far  more  recklessly, 
now  he  knew  who  he  really  was,  and  buying  much  less 
happiness. 

Monsieur  Verre,  the  ex-Premier,  who,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, figured  on  the  second  card,  proved  a  lucky  find. 
His  flat,  situated  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin,  the  locality  Wal- 
ter preferred,  was  an  exceedingly  good  one,  and  a  nearer 
approach  than  any  he  had  yet  seen  to  what  he  wanted. 
The  Verres  themselves  were  most  obliging.  Their  furni- 
ture was  already  in  a  new  villa  at  St.  Cloud;  they  were 

32 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  33 

only  too  glad  to  follow  it,  and  to  leave  him  in  immediate 
possession.  He  worked  hard.  Within  fourteen  days  of  his 
arrival,  he  was  installed,  and  his  dream  begun.  And  at 
this  point  the  humble  chronicler  would  wish  nothing  bet- 
ter than  to  break  away  from  the  thread  of  his  narrative 
and  give  a  rhapsodical  account  of  the.  new  abode.  The 
place  merited  superlatives.  The  library,  in  particular, 
upon  which  Walter  had  expended  most  money  and 
trouble,  enchanted  all  who  beheld  it.  Madame  Verre 
declared  that  it  was  a  room  more  often  dreamt  of  than 
seen;  while  Monsieur,  her  husband,  never  entered  it 
without  pretending  to  forget  the  position  of  the  door, — a 
little  bit  of  pantomime  meant  to  demonstrate  the  mar- 
vellous change  effected  by  the  new  tenant.  The  remain- 
ing apartments  came  but  little  behind;  but,  for  Walter, 
the  virtue  had  gone  out  of  them  all.  Compared  with  the 
Elysee,  he  found  them  small  and  meanly  furnished;  and 
the  blue  silk  hangings  that  adorned  his  bedroom  seemed 
to  harbour  the  lurking  murderer  come  on  De  Morin's 
business.  So,  perhaps,  the  less  said  about  the  furniture, 
the  better.  If  it  failed  to  afford  the  gratification  he  had 
looked  for,  at  least  the  reason  was  a  substantial  one. 

Monsieur  and  Madame  Verre  —  as  has  been  indicated 
already — did  more  than  merely  let  him  have  their  flat. 
They  came  and  sat  in  it.  Walter  had  always  intended 
that  his  landlord  or  predecessor  in  the  tenancy  should 
introduce  him  into  society,  and  he  succeeded  beyond 
what  he  had  any  right  to  expect.  For  ex-Premiers,  the 
Verres  were  wonderfully  genial  and  easy  of  approach. 
They  accepted  the  young  man's  references  as  establish- 
ing his  eligibility  as  well  as  his  credit;  and  when  Madame 
learnt  incidentally  that  he  knew  Lord  Mendril,  her  cor- 
diality exceeded  all  bounds:  she  and  Lady  Framlingham 
having  been,  as  it  appeared,  acquainted  for  many  years. 

Under  their  auspices,  Walter  soon  found  his  way  into 
the  best  society,  mainly  ministerial,  as  was  to  be  ex- 
pected, and  very  substantial.  And  inasmuch  as  he  was 
able  to  pay  back  in  kind,  giving  unsurpassable  little 
dinners  and  evenings  devoted  to  the  most  exquisite 
music,  his  success  was  immediate,  and  promised  to  be 
lasting.  Of  course  he  was  not  a  lion ;  but  wherever  he 


34  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

went,  he  was  always  welcome.  He  began  to  be  known  as 
"the  rich  Englishman."  The  women  discussed  his 
interesting  melancholy;  the  men,  his  wines  and  superb 
cigars.  Newspapers  noticed  his  presence  at  fashionable 
gatherings;  and  in  the  Bois  people  commenced  to 
look  out  for  him  and  his  handsome  steed,  which,  by  the 
way,  he  bestrode  without  much  skill  or  elegance.  And 
not  a  few  of  those  who  knew  him,  as  an  acquaintance  or 
by  repute,  but  had  their  suspicions  that  the  English  po- 
lice would  presently  appear  and  claim  him  for  their  own. 
It  was  fame, —  of  a  tepid  order  indeed,  but  still  fame; 
and  measuring  it  by  the  standard  of  that  to  which  he 
was  really  entitled,  he  found  it  so  much  dust  and  ashes. 

His  position  was,  more  than  ever,  hateful  on  occasions 
when  chance,  or  rather  Monsieur  Verre,  brought  him  in 
contact  with  the  really  great.  Almost  the  first  visit  to  St. 
Cloud,  his  host  led  him  the  round  of  the  existing  Cabinet — 
the  greater  part  of  which  was  present  —  and  introduced 
him  to  the  various  ministers.  The  eminent  Carache  did 
not  appear  to  remember  his  face ;  he  gave  him  two  fingers 
and  a  frigid  stare.  Pontecoulant  gave  him  a  frigid  stare 
and  two  fingers.  Freron,  Minister  of  War;  Petard, 
Finance  Minister;  and  Graves,  Agriculture  —  all  smaller 
men,  and  therefore  less  generous,  gave  him  one  finger 
apiece,  and  did  n't  even  look  at  him.  But  this  was 
nothing  compared  with  an  experience  endured  a  few 
nights  later  in  the  same  place.  Walter  had  been  invited 
to  a  small  reception. 

"Sadler,"  cried  Monsieur,  darting  down  upon  the 
young  man  the  moment  the  latter  entered  Madame's 
drawing-room,  "whom  do  you  think  I  have  got  to- 
night? " 

Sadler  had  not  the  faintest  idea. 

"A  compatriot  of  yours,  my  dear  friend,"  exclaimed  his 
host,  rubbing  his  hands  and  smiling  gleefully.  "Now 
guess!  " 

"  Really  I  cannot." 

"The  English  Minister  of  the  Interior!  Come  and 
let  me  introduce  you." 

The  Englishman  sat  chatting  gaily  with  Madame 
Verre,  a  charming  smile  over  his  clean-shaven  face.  He 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  35 

was  a  rising  young  man  of  about  forty-two,  entirely  self- 
made,  by  profession  a  barrister  like  Walter,  and  the 
reputed  possessor  of  an  austere  character  the  least  bit 
tempered  by  society  and  success. 

"Monsieur,"  cried  Verre  the  irrepressible,  "permit 
me  to  introduce  a  countryman  of  yours."  The  minister 
looked  up,  and  at  the  same  instant  his  charming  smile 
vanished  away.  He  surveyed  Walter  with  great  serious- 
ness, at  though  the  latter  had  been  recently  convicted 
of  murder,  and  had  come  in  person  to  pray  a  commuta- 
tion of  the  death  penalty;  bowed  gravely,  then  turned 
straightway  back  to  Madame  Verre  and  resumed  his  gay 
smile  and  charming  conversation. 

Monsieur  Verre,  who  was  blessed  with  acute,  pene- 
trating eyes  which  saw  nothing,  wanted  to  prolong  the 
torture.  But  Walter  refused.  He  turned  as  abruptly 
from  the  minister  as  the  minister  had  turned  from  him ; 
and  for  the  remainder  of  the  evening  kept  the  whole 
length  of  the  drawing-room  between  them. 

The  reception  he  met  with  at  the  Elysee,  curiously 
enough,  was  in  marked  contrast  to  the  interviews  above 
alluded  to. 

Bitter  experience  had  taught  him  to  fight  shy  of  offi- 
cial personages.  The  night  he  first  went  to  a  Presi- 
dential reception,  he  made  his  bow  and  then  slunk  into 
the  background,  avoiding  any  quarter  of  the  room  where 
the  chief  of  the  state  might  happen  to  be,  and  sternly 
rejecting  M.  Verre's  offer  to  obtain  him  a  less  formal 
introduction. 

He  was  standing  alone  in  a  deserted  corner  of  one  of 
the  drawing-rooms,  with  disconsolate  eyes  fixed  on  the 
magnificence  around  him.  His  heart  was  very  heavy. 
John  Harmon  in  contemplation  of  "Boffin's  Bower" 
might  have  endured  similar  misery;  that  is,  had  John 
Harmon  been  a  less  philosophical  person.  Of  all  earthly 
torments,  surely  this  is  the  most  terrible, — to  see  one's 
inheritance  in  the  hands  of  the  stranger. 

A  kindly  voice  murmured  in  his  ear.  "  Monsieur  finds 
the  scene  an  interesting  one?"  He  turned:  it  was  the 
President,  smiling  at  him  with  an  expression  full  of  the 
sweetest  amiability. 


36  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Walter.  "Especially  as  I 
have  never  been  privileged  to  see  it  before." 

"You  are  here  with  Monsieur  Verre,  are  you  not?" 
asked  the  President.  "Ah,  yes,  I  remember.  He  has 
been  telling  me  about  you.  You  are  the  young  English- 
man who  has  come  to  reside  here.  We  Parisians  must 
take  your  choice  as  a  very  great  compliment." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  Monsieur  to  say  so.  One  does 
not  care  to  run  down  one's  —  the  country  where  one  has 
lived  all  one's  youth ;  but  England  is  so  sad  and  dismal. ' ' 

"Of  course  you  are  quite  familiar  with  our  beautiful 
France?  I  need  hardly  ask  the  question;  you  speak  our 
language  so  perfectly." 

"  I  am  afraid,  Monsieur,"  broke  out  Walter,  blushing, 
"I  am  sailing  under  false  colours.  I  have  lived  all  my 
life  up  till  now  in  England;  that  is  true  enough.  I  was 
educated  there ;  but — but  by  birth  I  am  a  Frenchman.  My 
mother  and  father  were  both  Fren — Itali — French:  I 
was  born  in  France." 

The  President  continued  to  regard  him  with  the  same 
kindly  interest  as  hitherto,  neither  increased  nor  lessened. 
"Pardon,  Monsieur,"  said  he,  "I  did  not  catch  your 
name." 

"Walter  Sadler,"  blurted  out  the  other,  becoming 
quite  scarlet. 

"  How  deeply  interesting.    It  illustrates  the  magnetic 
•influence  exercised  by  our  dear  country;  does  in  not, 
Monsieur?"  and  with  another  bow,  more  amiable  than  the 
first,  the  gracious,  stately  presence  moved  away. 

At  home  Walter's  life  was  somewhat  less  varied.  His 
visiting-list  did  not  yet  include  such  giants  as  Carache, 
Pontecoulant,  or  English  Home  Secretaries.  Madame 
Verre  invited  for  him ;  and  as  she  frequently  remarked, 
"  The  Premier  will  come  in  time — Rome,  recollect,  was 
not  built  in  a  day."  Once,  Walter  tried  to  get  Lord 
Mendril.  His  lordship  was  unhappily  engaged,  and 
therefore  could  not  come. 

Apart  from  entertainments,  given  or  received,  his 
days  were  simple  enough.  He  lounged  through  his 
mornings,  mostly  in  rapt  adoration  of  his  bindings, 
lunched,  rode  in  the  Bois,  or,  now  and  then,  made  his 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  37 

excursion  to  the  Rue  Fabert.  And  this  brought  the 
time  round  again  to  the  evening  party,  or  the  opera  where 
he  would  sit  through  Lohengrin  without  turning  a  hair. 

The  next  time  our  hero  came  across  Carache  was  at 
a  reception  given  by  the  President  of  the  Senate.  The 
indefatigable  Verre  insisted  on  subjecting  Walter  to  a 
second  presentation.  The  Premier  welcomed  them  with 
momentary  closed  lids,  accompanied  by  a  look  of  intense 
pain.  He  was  a  man  with  a  pointed  face,  somewhat 
resembling  a  fox's,  that  contained  prominent  green  eyes 
and  a  sharp  nose.  His  hair  was  brown  and  wispy  >  while 
his  ears  were  almost  as  prominent  as  his  eyes  —  a  touch- 
ing memento,  this  last,  of  earlier  days,  connecting  the 
middle-aged  statesman  with  the  child  whose  nurse  had 
not  done  all  she  might  have  for  his  future  beauty.  Alto- 
gether, it  was  a  countenance  fitted  for  action  rather  than 
repose;  its  present  look  of  ennui  did  not  suit  it. 

"Hullo,  Verre,  how  are  you?"  he  murmured  faintly, 
facing  the  inevitable. 

"Splendid,  thanks.  Sadler  and  I  saw  you  standing 
by  yourself,  so  we  thought  we  would  come  and  cheer  you 
up  a  bit.  I  say,  old  man,  I  nearly  unhorsed  you  in  the 
Chamber,  this  afternoon." 

"M.  Sadler?"  pondered  Carache;  "  M.  Sadler?— I 
have  not  the  pleasure  of  knowing  the  gentleman." 

"Good  heavens!  you  shook  hands  with  him  at  my 
house,  only  ten  days  ago." 

"Did  I?"  murmured  Carache.  He  at  once  assumed 
the  levee  smile  of  the  third  quality,  usually  reserved  for 
minor  government  employees;  and  thrust  forward  two 
fingers.  "Monsieur,  I  am  charmed  to  see  you";  then 
he  yawned  and  looked  at  the  chandelier.  Presently  he 
pulled  himself  together,  and  without  further  words  clave 
his  way  through  them  to  another  quarter  of  the  room. 

"  Carache  is  often  like  that,"  Verre  remarked,  glan- 
cing affectionately  after  him;  "and  —  and  —  ah,  here  is 
Madame." 

Madame  Verre  was  as  incisive  as  her  husband  was 
outspoken.  She  had,  moreover,  a  curious  trick  of  turn- 
ing up  her  eyes  so  that  only  the  whites  were  visible.  It 
did  not  add  to  her  attractions,  which,  to  speak  truth, 


38  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

were  not  great.  But  it  contributed  much  to  her  gen- 
erally trenchant  demeanour.  "There,  I  can't  look  at 
you,"  these  sightless  orbs  appeared  to  say,  "you  are 
really  too  weak  and  foolish  for  that;  —  but  go  on,  I  am 
listening. " 

"Lady  Threpps  is  going  to  give  a  ball,"  she  cried, 
directly  the  young  man  was  well  within  hearing.  "We 
received  our  cards  just  before  we  left  home.  The  last 
Wednesday  in  July,  the  date  is.  Have  you  yours  yet?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  the  ambassadress." 

"Ah,  but  you  are  a  distinguished  countryman  of 
hers;  besides,  you  are  a  friend  of  the  Framlinghams — " 

"Pardon,  Madame;  I  never  said  so." 

"Lord  Mendril,  I  mean.  It  is  the  same  thing.  I 
had  a  letter  from  Henrietta  Framlingham  the  other 
night.  She  says  that  no  doubt  her  sons  have  many  college 
friends  whom  she  does  not  even  know  by  name.  Oh 
yes,  Lord  Mendril  will  get  you  an  invitation.  He  is  a 
charming  boy,  just  like  his  dear  mother.  Muriel  takes 
after  her  father"  —  Walter  started — "Charles, — well,  I 
do  not  know  whom  he  resembles." 

"Yes,  yes,"  chimed  in  Monsieur  Verre,  "  it  would  be  a 
thousand  pities  if  you  did  not  go  to  your  own  embassy. 
You  have  been  everywhere  else,  and  have  met  every  one 
of  note, — the  President,  Carache,  Pontecoulant, — and 
been  most  amiably  received  by  them." 

"Madame,"  began  poor  Monsieur  Sadler. 

But  Madame,  who  had  been  displaying  the  whites  of 
her  eyes  all  through  the  late  marital  harangue, — they 
resembled  electric  advertising  discs, —  recovered  her 
vision  in  time  to  prevent  any  protests. 

"That  is  settled.  Monsieur  Sadler  will  get  his  card 
through  Lord  Mendril." 

"  I  will  po  in  the  morning,"  murmured  Walter.  And 
the  fact  is  more  easily  recorded  than  explained,- — 
although  convinced  that  he  was  the  missing  Bonaparte, 
he  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  another  interview  with  this 
disdainful  young  nobleman. 

"The  thing  is  done  every  day,"  responded  the  good 
lady.  "By  the  by,  the  Framlinghams  are  coming  to 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  39 

France  this  summer;  they  have  a  villa  near  Paris.     You 
must  get  Lord  Mendril  to  introduce  you." 

That  same  evening  our  hero  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Count  Nicholas  Fersen,  the  young  Russian  attache", 
whom  he  had  seen  first  at  Jervis's  restaurant  among 
Lord  Framlingham's  guests.  And  a  very  pleasant  fellow 
he  found  him, —  at  the  outset,  that  is  to  say.  For  one 
thing,  the  Count  had  height  and  a  handsome  face.  He 
was  extremely  frank,  and  he  inclined  to  friendliness  with 
all  men, — qualities  not  usually  looked  for  in  your  youthful 
diplomat.  His  comments  on  the  state  of  Europe  were 
most  refreshing.  Under  the  steady  gaze  of  his  clear  and 
fearless  grey  eyes  Walter  wondered  what  he  had  done  to 
deserve  such  confidences. 

He  began  with  Alsace-Lorraine.  Directing  Sadler's 
attention  to  a  group  of  ministers  gathered  round  Verre 
and  Carache,  who  appeared  in  heated  argument,  he 
observed,  "  Had  our  friends  been  less  interested  in  their 
own  quarrels,  a  month  or  so  back,  France  might  have 
done  something  over  yonder." 

Walter  opined  that  France  had  forgotten  all  about 
the  provinces.  The  other  dissented,  and  not  by  any 
means  in  low  tones.  "France  is  sick  of  the  present 
gang,"  he  declared.  "Had  there  been  a  decent  pre- 
tender here  in  April  the  Republic  must  have  fallen.  This 
place  reminded  one  of  Constantinople,  or  London  during 
a  general  election,"  and  the  boy's  face  broke  into  a 
charming  smile.  "I  assure  you  both  Carache  and 
Pontecoulant  went  about  in  chain  armour.  But  no  one 
arose  to  seize  the  advantage.  We  all  know  the  amount 
of  grit  in  the  Bourbons.  As  for  the  Imperialists,  well, 
the  less  said  about  them  and  their  precious  Lost  One, 
the  better." 

"You  do  not  credit  the  story?  "  asked  Walter,  com- 
mencing to  tremble. 

"Not  I.  The  supine  Victor  is  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
He  prefers  Brussels,  and  quiet.  As  for  Louis,  he  is  too 
conscientious  ever  to  do  any  good.  An  old  colonel  of 
his  regiment  told  me  once  that  the  fellow  seemed  always 
in  silent  prayer.  Obviously,  one  can't  pray  one's  self  onto 
a  throne.  My  chief  holds  identical  views. " 


40  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"The  Russian  ambassador?  " 

"Yes,  old  Prehlen.     You  know  him,  no  doubt?" 

"I  have  not  that  pleasure." 

"It  will  come  in  time.  His  excellency  goes  every- 
where. At  present  he  has  a  cold, ' '  and  Nicholas  chuckled. 

"Are  you  going  to  Lady  Threpps's  dance?"  Walter 
asked,  anxious  to  quit  the  contemplation  of  his  tantaliz- 
ing inheritance. 

"  I  did  not  know  she  had  one.  I  daresay  I  shall  go. 
Of  course  you  are." 

"Yes,  I  am  going.  I  don't  much  care  about  those 
things;  but  it  looks  so  bad  for  a  man  not  to  go  to  his 
own  embassy." 

"Well,  you  won't  enjoy  it,"  said  the  blunt  young 
Russian.  "  Lady  Threpps  is  an  absurd  creature.  She 
is  awkward,  and  says  foolish  things." 

"  I  believe  you  know  the  Framlinghams?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Fersen,  somewhat  grudgingly  for  so  frank 
a  man. 

"I  saw  you  dining  with  them  the  other  night  at 
Jervis's.  Lord  Mendril  is  staying  with  the  Threppses. 
He  and  I  were  gre —  were  friends  up  at  the  university." 
Walter  could  not  get  himself  to  say  that  he  knew  only 
Lord  Mendril.  But  he  went  gingerly  over  thin  ice. 
"  Lady  Framlingham  is  a  Frenchwoman,  I  believe?  " 

"  I  believe  so." 

"She  is  very  charming.  I  like  her  husband.  I  con- 
fess I  am  peculiar  in  that;  generally,  he  is  most  un- 
popular." 

"I  have  never  noticed  anything  of  the  sort,"  re- 
sponded Fersen,  now  as  cold  as  the  coldest  part  of  his 
native  country,  and  as  faraway.  "All  his  friends  —  and 
I  have  met  a  good  many  —  speak  most  warmly  of  him. 
You  are  the  first  man  I  have  ever  heard  do  the  contrary. " 

"You  altogether  mistake  me,"  exclaimed  Walter, 
flushing  with  righteous  indignation.  "I  merely  state 
the  fact.  He  admits  as  much  himself.  'Sadler,'  he 
said  to  me  only  a  few  days  before  I  came  away,  '  how  is 
it  I  am  so  hated?'  I  pooh-poohed  the  notion.  'My 
dear  Framlingham,'  I  said,  '  I  think  you  make  a  mistake. 
You  have  a  great  name  in  the  country.  You  have  been 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  41 

a  faithful  public  servant.  Not  a  man  but  knows  your 
probity  and  praises  it.'  But  do  what  I  would,  I  could 
not  convince  him." 

Fersen  was  yawning.  Our  hero  trusted  most  sincerely 
that  he  had  not  attended  to  a  single  word.  And  as  he 
wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow,  he  wondered  bit- 
terly how  in  the  world  he  had  descended  to  such  paltry 
and  contemptible  lying,  so  foreign  as  it  was  to  his  nature. 

"Their  daughter  is  very  pretty." 

Nicholas  cleared  his  throat,  no  doubt  to  avoid  any- 
thing more  explicit. 

"Very  pretty  indeed,"  Walter  persisted,  with  growing 
audacity.  "  If  I  were  not  so  poor,  and  a  commoner,  I 
should  like  to  go  in  for  —  I  should  like  to  mar — to  pro- 
pose to  her." 

Nicholas  Fersen  treated  him  to  an  unflinching  stare. 
"Tell  me,  Monsieur,"  he  asked,  still  quite  courteous, 
but  portentously  solemn,  "  is  it  the  custom  in  your  coun- 
try to  treat  a  lady's  name  so  lightly? " 

"I  am  not  aware  that  I  have  treated  her  name 
lightly,"  snarled  Walter;  "and,  for  another  thing,  my 
country  is  France." 

"Where  gentlemen  are  quite  as  well-behaved  as  they 
are  in  England." 

"  Or  Russia,"  sneered  our  hero. 

"Or  Russia.  Madame  Prehlen  beckons  me — adieu, 
Monsieur. " 

This  bitter  humiliation  was  wellnigh  the  last  straw. 
Even  were  he  plain  Walter  Sadler,  what  did  this  cub 
mean  by  treating  him  so  insolently?  He  was  every  bit 
as  good  a  man  as  Fersen,  or  that  puppy  Mendril.  His 
mind  was  a  perfectly  correct  one ;  all  his  feelings  in  abso- 
lute good  taste.  Surely  they  must  see  that  he  was  their 
equal.  But  they  did  not,  and  needed  teaching.  In  his 
heart  he  knew  exactly  how  the  lesson  should  be  given. 
The  icy  sarcasm,  the  bitter  monysyllable  at  the  right 
moment,  the  distant  look, — how  often  had  he  rehearsed 
them  all.  Alas,  when  the  time  came,  he  blundered  into 
quite  a  different  method.  He  tried  to  be  easy  and 
familiar. 

He  resolved  not  to  risk  any  more  snubs  that  evening, 


42  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

so  he  quitted  what  Madame  Verre  could  have  called  the 
dazzling  scene.  His  brougham  was  nowhere  to  be 
found.  He  started  forth  on  foot,  not  sorry  to  walk  home 
through  the  delicious  night.  The  Cafe  de  la  Paix  tempted 
him  to  enjoy  it  more  in  detail.  He  sank  into  a  chair  and 
ordered  himself  a  bock,  of  all  things  in  the  world,  to  calm 
his  spirits.  Two  men  were  conversing  at  a  neighbouring 
table;  one  in  earnest  tones,  not  much  above  a  whisper; 
the  other  lightly,  but  no  louder. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  something?"  the  nearer  one  was 
saying  in  a  mysterious  undertone;  "there  is  a  whisper 
about  that  Victor  is  in  Paris." 

"My  dear  Delaforce!  "  protested  the  other. 

"  A  man  the  very  image  of  '  Plon-Plon  '  has  been  seen 
continually  of  late  in  the  streets  near  the  Gare  St.  Lazare. 
Who  can  he  be  but  Victor?  Take  my  word  for  it, 
Jacques,  there  is  mischief  on  foot." 

"Pooh,"  returned  Jacques,  puffing  out  a  series  of 
blue  smoke-wreaths,  and  pausing  in  his  words  to  watch 
them  mount  and  expand  and  vanish.  "The  lamented 
creature  was  not  a  man  of  a  peculiar  type ;  his  pasty, 
puffed-out  face  is  common  enough.  I  do  not  know 
Victor;  but  I  dare  wager  he  is  no  more  like  his  father 
than  you  are." 

"Wait.  The  same  man  has  been  seen  hanging  about 
the  Rue  Fabert,  the  other  side  of  the  water." 

"Well?" 

"The  Count  de  Morin  lives  in  that  street.  A  Greek 
who  does  some  work  for  the  old  fellow  told  me  on  the 
Bourse  that  he  has  constantly  seen  this  '  Flon-Plon  ' 
hovering  outside  De  Morin's  door." 

"  How  can  he  possibly  know  that  this  is  the  man  seen 
about  the  Gare  St.  Lazare?" 

"  Petrophorous  lives  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin,"  Delaforce 
answered,  evidently  delivering  himself  of  his  trump  card. 
"  He  declares  '  Plon-Plon  '  lives  there  too." 

"All  I  can  say  is,  he'll  get  short  shrift  if  Carache 
catches  him.  The  Premier  is  not  in  the  mood  for  pre- 
tenders. I  was^  in  the  Chamber  this  afternoon  through 
that  scene  between  him  and  the  Radicals:  he  looked  as 
though  he  would  like  to  have  shot  Verre." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  43 

"  I  say,  Jacques,"  said  Delaforce  presently,  in  a  voice 
a  man  generally  uses  to  convey  some  sudden  discovery, — 
"I  say,  Jacques!  —  suppose  this  fellow  wasn't  Victor 
after  all?" 

"That's  very  likely,"  murmured  Jacques. 

"Suppose  he  were  the  mysterious  Bonaparte  come  to 
claim  his  own!" 

Walter's  bock  went  crashing  to  the  floor.  Neither  of 
the  two  men  took  the  least  notice. 

"  Delaforce,  you  are  mad  about  those  precious  Bo- 
na — " 

"  Hear  me  out.  This  De  Morin  knows  more  about 
the  missing  man  than  he  chooses  to  make  public.  Thence 
my  theory.  Plon-Plon  number  two  has  lived  till  now  in 
happy  ignorance  of  his  name,  probably  in  Paris  itself, 
and  constantly  seeing  De  Morin.  One  day,  an  old  letter 
or  something  of  that  sort  discloses  to  him  his  secret, 
as  well  as  the  fact  that  De  Morin  alone  knew  it." 

"  Comic  opera,  my  dear  fellow." 

"  He  is  now  hovering  about  De  Morin's  doorstep  with- 
out the  courage  to  go  in  and  find  out  what  may  be  the 
meaning  of  his  little  game." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you. " 

"  It  is  quite  simple.  The  fellow  knows  enough  of  his 
secret  to  know  that  De  Morin  alone  can  substantiate  it. 
'  Why  has  De  Morin  kept  me  in  ignorance  all  these 
years?'  he  asks  himself.  The  only  possible  answer  is, 
that  the  latter  is  acting  in  unmitigated  bad  faith, — prob- 
ably embezzling  moneys." 

"  The  whole  idea  is  balderdash.  In  this  world  of  weak, 
lethargic,  cowardly  human  beings,  there,  nevertheless, 
isn't  one  weak  or  lethargic  or  cowardly  enough  to  sit 
quiet  under  a  secret  like  that.  No,  not  for  a  thousand 
De  Morins.  Why,  man,  he  only  has  to  look  round  to  see 
how  the  chance  is  shouting  for  him.  He  would  have 
been  across  De  Morin's  threshold  much  ere  this  and  given 
that  aged  conspirator  a  nasty  one  on  the  head.  If  you 
are  right,  all  I  can  add  is,  that  De  Morin  can't  have  done 
him  so  much  harm  after  all.  He  may  have  deprived  him 
of  a  few  dividends;  he  certainly  won't  have  kept  him  out 
of  his  throne.  Such  a  creature — but  come,  Delaforce;  I 


44  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

am  tired  of  sitting.  Let  us  go  and  see  whether  Marie  is 
back  from  her  supper-party.  I  have  not  set  eyes  on  the 
damsel  for  days." 

Walter  rose  at  the  same  time  and  resumed  his  road 
homeward.  He  could  see  no  way  out  of  the  perplexities 
which  hemmed  him  in.  The  marvellously  acute  Dela- 
force  had  stated  the  truth  with  a  simplicity  of  which 
Walter's  own  overweighted  brain  was  quite  incapable. 
The  poor,  much-puzzled  young  man  went  through  the 
well-worn  dilemma  for  about  the  thousandth  time. 

That  he  was  not  the  coward  that  Jacques  had  said, 
was  amply  proved  by  the  fact  that  he  continued  in  Paris, 
moving  about  quite  openly  —  not  so  safe  an  occupation, 
as  the  Petrophorous  incident  showed.  Many  a  less  cour- 
ageous man  might  have  fled,  or  at  least  lurked  at  home 
daily  against  the  coming  of  night.  Not  he. 

But  assuredly  such  a  course  was  absolutely  illogical? 
If  he  did  not  fear  the  chance  of  De  Morin  seeking  him 
out,  why  did  he  fear  to  seek  out  De  Morin? 

The  difficulty  presented  itself  only  to  be  at  once  dis- 
pelled. The  Count,  having  heard  Brisson's  story,  might 
very  well  be  under  the  impression  that  Walter  had  gone 
upon  his  way  without  suspecting.  And  so  long  as  this 
impression  lasted,  the  old  vagabond  would  probably  take 
no  steps. 

And  then  the  ever-lurking  suspicion  returned,  that  he 
was  not  the  Prince  after  all;  and  that  De  Morin  would 
receive  him  with  nothing  more  terrible  than  shouts  of 
laughter.  The  thought  soothed  his  troubled  brain.  It 
gave  him  a  few  minutes'  respite  from  the  torturing  reflec- 
tion that  the  throne  stood  ready  for  the  first  serious  pre- 
tender,— a  consideration  which,  it  may  be  added,  was 
always  the  more  bitter,  when  he  remembered  his  present 
life  of  daily  snubs. 

The  next  morning  brought  a  winning  appeal  from 
Madame  Verre.  As  Monsieur  Sadler,  wrote  the  gifted 
lady,  was  intending  to  call  at  the  embassy,  would  he 
kindly  inform  Lord  Mendril  that  the  latter's  mother  de- 
sired him  to  go  down  to  the  Villa  Henriette  in  order  to 
see  whether  the  housekeeper  there  had  obeyed  Lady 
Framlingham's  instructions?  The  poor  fellow  had  no 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  45 

choice  left  him  but  to  obey.  His  charming  namesake 
had  had  one  ear;  and  now  he  must  present  the  other. 
He  put  off  the  evil  moment  as  long  as  possible,  hence  it 
was  past  noon  before  he  entered  the  courtyard  of  Lord 
Threpps's  residence.  Mendril  had  just  returned  from 
his  ride,  and  presented  himself  in  the  course  of  some 
nineteen  minutes,  still  booted  and  spurred,  with  flushed 
face  and  disordered  hair.  He  waxed  gloomy  the  moment 
he  learnt  the  identity  of  his  visitor,  merely  touching  the 
other's  outstretched  hand.  Then  he  flung  himself  lan- 
guidly into  an  easy-chair  and  commenced  to  tap  his  heel 
with  his  whip.  Walter  floundered  through  Madame 
Verre's  message.  The  semi-jocular  mode  of  delivery 
which  he  adopted  to  preserve  the  lady's  little  precisions 
proved  unavailing.  Walter  Mendril  heard  the  recital 
out  with  a  frowning  face,  adding  not  one  word  when  it 
was  finished.  He  listened  in  moody  silence  to  Sadler's 
desperate  attempts  to  pass  on  to  an  easy  conversation, 
until  the  latter  desisted  from  the  hopeless  task,  giving 
his  mind  instead  to  devising  a  pretext  for  an  immediate 
departure.  But  these  are  not  to  be  had  for  the  asking, 
so  he  was  driven  before  long  to  say  abruptly: 

"  I  must  be  going.  As  it  is,  I  have  taken  up  too  much 
of  your  time." 

Mendril  did  not  move.  "  I  presume  you  still  have 
something  to  say  to  me?  "  This  with  a  nearer  approach 
to  downright  insolence  than  he  had  as  yet  been  guilty  of. 

"Of  course  how  foolish  of  me;  I  was  nearly  forget- 
ting,"  laughed  the  other,  hysterically.  "The  fact  is, 
Lady  Threpps  has  omitted  to  send  me  a  card  for  her 
dance." 

"  It  is  very  wrong  of  Lady  Threpps." 

"  No,  no;  merely  a  mistake  —  some  must  be  acciden- 
tally left  out." 

"Oh." 

"The  matter  is  not  one  which  I  should  take  very 
much  to  heart,"  Sadler  pursued;  "I  don't  care  for 
dancing  or  that  sort  of  thing,  only  it  looks  so  bad  for  a 
man  not  to  go  to  his  own  embassy." 

"  Certainly." 

"So  very  bad.      People  say  such  unkind  things." 


46  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"They  do." 

"And  the  report  spreads  that  he  is  not  received  by 
the  best  people  at  home, —  the  very  best,  I  mean." 

"Which  may  perhaps  be  true," — spoken  however  too 
low  for  Walter  to  hear. 

"And   that,  of  course,  is  fatal  to  his  chances." 

"  Of  course." 

"Accordingly,  I  have  ventured  to  come  here  this  morn- 
ing—  to  come  here  this  morning  and  see  whether  — 
whether — " 

"Well." 

"  To  ask  if  you  would  be  kind  enough  to  get  the  error 
rectified." 

Mendril  was  on  his  feet  even  before  the  words  were 
out  of  Walter's  mouth.  The  dear  fellow  did  not  seem  in 
the  least  excited,  only  very,  very  decided;  and  decision, 
as  we  all  know,  does  better  on  straight  legs. 

"No,  no,  Mr.  Sadler,"  he  cried,  "I  never  do  that"; 
the  lad  might  have  been  fifty,  and  engaged  half  his  life 
in  refusing  similar  requests.  "Never!  never!  It's  one 
of  my  iron  rules." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  murmured  Walter. 

"Never!  never!  If  a  man  gets  a  name  for  that  sort 
of  complaisance,  he  may  make  up  his  mind  never  to  have 
another  quiet  moment.  The  merest  acquaintances,  men 
with  whom  he  has  exchanged  perhaps  half  a  dozen  words, 
will  think  it  their  right  to  pester  his  life  out.  The  poor 
devil  might  drown  himself  at  once;  he  would,  at  any  rate, 
be  spared  a  deal  of  misery." 

"I  am  very  sorry, "  repeated  Walter,  as  indeed  his 
face  showed  eloquently  enough.  "I  had  no  idea  that 
you  had  such  a  strong  objection." 

"The  strongest  objection,"  returned  Mendril  genially. 
"Consider  the  terrible  responsibility.  If  one  gets 
a  man  an  invitation,  one  vouches  for  his  being  a  respecta- 
ble person;  —  that  he  won't  insult  the  ladies,  or  become 
intoxicated,  or  go  off  with  the  spoons,  or  do  any  of  the 
terrible  things  invitation-hunters  usually  do.  But  how 
can  one  possibly  answer  for  a  chance  acquaintance,  whom 
one  hardly  knows  by  sight?  Take  your  own  case  for 
instance.  I  have  seen  you  two  or  three  times  up  at  Ox- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  47 

ford,  and  once  since.  I  don't  know  you  at  home," — 
this  with  a  significance  which,  at  any  other  time,  Walter 
could  hardly  have  failed  to  notice, — "  I  don't  properly 
know  who  you  are  or  what  you  are.  How  can  I  then 
vouch  for  your  respectability?  " 

Even  the  worm  will  turn  at  last.  "For  the  third 
time,  I  repeat  I  am  sorry,"  cried  Walter,  with  blazing 
eyes.  "You  may  be  sure  I  did  not  understand  your 
feelings  on  the  subject,  else  I  should  not  have  put  you 
to  so  much  trouble — "  At  that  moment  the  door  swept 
open  and  Lady  Threpps  swept  in. 

Walter,  blinded  as  he  was  by  anger,  took  her  lady- 
ship's measure  at  a  single  glance.  The  ultra-regal  air, 
the  excessive  languor,  the  too-well-fitting  dress,  the 
overwhelming  elegance,  all  spoke  Streatham-on-the-Hill. 
The  ambassadress,  to  be  sure,  was  young,  and  time 
might  temper  her  and  tone  down  Streatham  into  a  simili- 
tude of  Mayfair;  but,  at  present,  she  was  Streatham  all 
over;  reeked  of  Streatham;  carried  it  in  her  glossy 
blue-black  hair;  over  her  face  and  neck,  so  elegantly 
poised;  and  on  her  figure,  which,  for  Streatham,  was  tall 
and  elegant.  Last,  but  not  least,  her  curiosity  was  un- 
diluted suburb.  The  aristocratic  repose  that  lay  upon 
her,  and  all  over  her,  inches  thick,  did  not  prevent  her 
examining  Walter  very  keenly;  and  she  made  no  pre- 
tence to  withdraw  from  the  room,  which,  it  is  to  be  sup- 
posed, she  had  only  entered  under  the  impression  that 
it  was  unoccupied. 

"So  sorry,  dear  Lord  Mendril, "  she  simpered.  "I 
had  no  idea  you  were  in  here." 

"Please  do  not  go,  Lady  Threpps," — she  had  not 
evinced  the  slightest  intention  of  going.  "This  gentle- 
man is  present  as  much  on  your  account  as  on  mine. " 

"So  charmed  to  meet  any  friend  of  yours,  dear  Lord 
Mendril. " 

"Oh,  he  is  not  a  friend;  that  is  an  honour  I  fear  I 
cannot  claim." 

Lady  Threpps  took  the  cue  at  once.  Indeed,  Men- 
dril's  voice,  if  not  his  actual  words,  could  only  bear  one 
meaning.  Her  simpering  face  at  once  assumed  a  look  of 
extreme  hauteur.  "  If  you  do  not  know  the  gentleman," 


48  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

she  said,  surveying  Walter  from  top  to  toe,  "I  am  sure 
I  do  not." 

"I  know  him  slightly.  We  have  met  about  three 
times  before.  He  has  therefore  come  to  me  with  a 
complaint  against  your  ladyship." 

"Against  me ?     Really  I  do  not  understand." 

"  He  says  that  you  have  neglected  to  ask  him  to  your 
dance." 

There  was  no  need  of  further  explanation;  Streatham 
understood. 

The  ambassadress  showed  her  intense  enjoyment  at 
finding  an  applicant  on  such  an  errand  by  once  again 
breaking  forth  into  smiles.  "So  sorry,  my  dear  Mr. 

,  Mr.  ,  so  dreadfully  sorry;  but  I  fear,  as  it  is,  I 

have  invited  too  many  people,  and  I  could  n' t  flossz'My  ask 
any  more.  It  's  a  horrible  bore,  yet  what  is  one  to  do? 
The  space  is  limited ;  and  then  one  gets  into  such  a 
dreadful  mess,  if  one  asks  the  wrong  people.  I  did  some- 
thing of  the  sort  at  my  last  dance,  and  Threpps  gave 
me  such  a  terrible  scolding.  So  sorry,  so  dreadfully 
sorry,"  and  with  an  insolent  nod  and  a  hasty  resumption 
of  her  ultra-regal  demeanour,  my  lady  walked  herself  out 
of  the  room. 

Lord  Mendril  prepared  to  follow.  "Before  we  part, 
Mr.  Sadler,"  said  he,  "  it  may  interest  you  to  know  that 
I  met  Count  Fersen  this  morning  in  the  Bois. " 

Walter  became  scarlet. 

"  I  see  you  take  my  meaning.  Another  time,  when 
you  are  boasting  of  your  English  friends,  be  good  enough 
not  to  include  my  people  among  them." 

"Be  good  enough  not  to  include  my  people!  " — "  Be 
good  enough  not  to  include  my  people!  " — the  insolent 
words  rung  in  Walter's  ears;  the  insolent  look  that  had 
gone  with  them  swam  before  his  eyes;  he  fled  along  the 
Faubourg  St.  Honore,  mad  with  rage  and  shame,  but 
could  escape  from  neither. 

There  was  only  one  road  now!  It  lay  straight  across 
the  water  to  the  Rue  Fabert.  The  flimsy  pretexts  which 
had  kept  him  hitherto  from  De  Morin's  door  should 
serve  no  longer.  They  were  worthless,  utterly  rotten ; 
he  saw  that  well  enough,  now  that  his  mind  was  clarified 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  49 

by  blinding  anger.  What  man,  in  the  whole  world,  would 
put  up  with  such  insults  —  and  again  and  again  their 
memory  stung  his  face  —  when,  in  their  stead,  he  could 
have  a  throne,  and  naught  but  flattery? 

And  he  would  have  his  throne,  too,  and  keep  it;  and 
crunch  his  heel  upon  the  prostrate  forms  of  these  arro- 
gant Fersens,  Caraches,  and  Mendrils.  "  I  can  come 
to  Paris  whenever  I  choose,"  my  lord  had  said,  in  his 
careless,  self-satisfied  drawl.  We  should  see,  we  should 
see. 

Better  still.  Paris  must,  first  of  all,  run  with  blood,  so 
that  in  the  general  commotion  these  creatures  might  be 
caught  and  killed,  like  rats  in  a  trap.  Death  was  wel- 
come, if  it  came  as  the  price  of  such  a  revenge. 

So,  on  and  on  he  went,  at  times  breaking  into  an  un- 
steady trot;  his  elegant  clothes  disarranged,  his  hat  at 
the  back  of  his  head  and  almost  off,  the  money  jingling 
in  all  his  pockets,  and  tie  and  watch-chain  streaming  to 
the  winds.  Men  turned  to  look  at  him  and  thought  him 
mad.  They  would  have  deemed  him  madder  still,  had 
they  known  what  it  was  he  sought. 

He  plunged  into  the  Rue  Fabert.  The  sight  of  it  did 
not  even  sober  him.  He  crashed  through  the  common 
hall  of  De  Morin's  house,  stumbled  up  the  steep  stone 
stairs,  and  stood  breathless  before  the  old  man's  door. 

Then  he  paused  to  collect  himself.  Heart  and  head 
were  throbbing.  The  place  swam  before  his  eyes;  and, 
for  an  instant,  he  feared  him  this  was  death.  But  it 
proved  merely  the  effect  of  undue  exertion  on  a  seden- 
tary and  somewhat  puffy  subject.  The  surging  subsided; 
and  Walter  was  presently  well  enough  to  tidy  the  out- 
ward man.  He  did  so  very,  very  slowly.  At  last  there 
was  positively  nothing  further  to  be  done;  he  lifted  his 
hand  towards  the  bell.  He  merely  touched  the  knob 
with  his  thumb;  he  could  not  press  it.  Twice  he  tried 
to  ring, — twice  he  could  not.  The  old  dreads  were  on 
him  stronger  than  ever.  With  a  groan  of  despair  he 
turned  and  retraced  his  steps  slowly  down  the  stairs. 

He  halted  in  the  street,  and  wrestled  with  himself. 
He  recalled  aloud  Mendril's  biting  words.  Their  mem- 
ory brought  the  blood  duly  into  his  cheeks.  He  repeated 


50  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

them.  The  scarlet  thickened.  He  gave  the  strength 
of  his  imagination  to  revive  the  picture.  The  picture 
came.  The  young  lord,  handsome  and  scornful,  stood 
before  him  almost  in  the  flesh.  The  rage  and  shame  of 
the  whole  business  was  no  jot  abated.  But — but  he 
could  not  turn  and  re-ascend  the  stairs. 

He  crossed  the  road;  and  on  the  opposite  pavement 
started  a  fresh  rehearsal  of  the  late  incentives.  Had  he 
turned  his  eyes  at  that  moment  up  to  De  Morin's  win- 
dow, he  would  have  seen  the  curtain  twitched  aside  to 
make  way  for  a  face  which  smiled  somewhat  ironically 
down  on  his.  But  he  didn't  look;  and  presently  the 
curtain  fell  back  into  position. 

"Be  good  enough  not  to  include  my  people,"  said 
he,  copying  Mendril's  voice  and  gesture;  "be  good 
enough  not  to  include  my  people." 

The  sting  had  gained  from  constant  repetition.  It 
dragged  him  back,  step  by  step,  his  fears  disputing 
every  inch,  to  the  nearer  pavement.  It  drove  him 
slowly,  oh!  so  slowly!  into  the  common  hall,  and  forced 
him  up  the  steep  stone  stairs. 

De  Morin's  flat  was  at  the  top.  The  nearer  Walter 
approached  the  stair-case  skylight,  the  more  his  reluc- 
tance increased.  He  never  actually  stopped,  but  he 
went  so  slowly  he  hardly  seemed  to  move. 

The  last  step  but  one!  the  next,  and  he  would  be 
upon  De  Morin's  landing!  Once  again,  had  he  not  been 
so  self-absorbed,  he  might  have  noticed  that  the  front 
door  was  moving — quite  gently  indeed,  as  though  there 
were  some  one  the  other  side  in  wait  to  open  it  directly 
the  visitor  stood  well  upon  the  threshold. 

And  in  truth  this  must  have  been  the  case;  for  at  the 
moment  Walter's  foot  touched  the  landing,  the  door  was 
opened  noiselessly  by  an  elderly  maid-servant  who 
beckoned  him  in. 

"Enter,  if  you  please,"  she  said;  "my  master  is  at 
home."  Her  calm  voice  and  stolid  countenance  hardly 
suggested  conspiracy,  nevertheless  Walter  drew  back. 

"Come  in,"  she  repeated.  "It  is  Monsieur  Walter 
Sadler,  is  it  not?  My  master  is  expecting  you." 


Chapter   IV 


"My  dear  Walter,"  said  the  Count  de  Morin,  "I  am 
delighted  to  see  you.  It  must  be  years  since  we  last 
met." 

The  speaker,  who  already  had  both  Walter's  hands 
tightly  clasped  in  his,  was  a  venerable  gentleman  of 
seventy  and  upwards,  whose  still  erect  figure  and  scarcely 
wrinkled  face  bore  witness  to  an  old  age  free  from  care. 
His  whole  appearance  betokened  a  benign  placidity.  He 
had  two  snow-white  tufts  of  hair,  one  above  either  ear, 
between  which  the  crown  of  the  head  rose  into  a  conical 
point — not  obtrusively  conical,  be  it  said — quite  bald, 
and  very  shiny.  He  had  a  smooth-shaved  face  and 
diminutive,  almost  childlike  features;  he  had  small  eyes, 
of  some  colour  which  was  indeterminable,  they  twinkled 
so.  And  altogether  he  looked  as  safe  and  respectable 
as  the  Bank  of  England.  His  clothes,  too,  could  not 
but  inspire  confidence.  They  were  of  an  old-world  cut. 
The  snow-white  frill  which  he  was  forever  intertwining 
with  his  fingers, — that  is,  when  he  was  n't  curling  out  his 
tufts  or  pointing  his  shaggy  eyebrows;  his  silver-buckle 
shoes,  which  called  for  black  silk  hose,  but  did  n't  get 
them ;  the  ample  folds  of  his  rich  black  broadcloth — ah, 
that  man  would  be  indeed  an  unbeliever,  who,  seeing 
these  things,  still  doubted  the  rectitude  of  their  pos- 
sessor! Walter  gave  in  at  once.  The  memory  of  his 
recent  suspicions  sent  the  blood  mantling  to  his  cheeks. 
He  returned  De  Morin's  hand-shake  with  equal  warmth; 
it  was  the  most  cordial  grasp  vouchsafed  him  for  many 
a  long  day. 

"Welcome,  welcome,  my  dear  child,"  repeated  the 
Count,  still  holding  him  tight,  but  putting  him  also  at 
arm's-length,  the  better  to  survey  him.  "You  have  not 


52  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

changed  at  all.  The  same  intelligent,  well-dressed,  well- 
cared-for  young  fellow  I  recollect  so  well.  A  wee  bit 
thicker  about  the  chin,  perhaps,"  he  added  critically, 
"nothing  more.  Brisson,  I  told  you  our  young  friend 
would  turn  up  in  time,  did  I  not?" 

The  room  was  rendered  dark  by  heavy  hangings  and 
a  quantity  of  cumbersome  and  antiquated  furniture.  But 
Walter,  hearing  this  name,  peered  over  De  Morin's 
shoulder  till  his  gaze  lit  upon  the  Colonel's  gaunt  figure, 
half  hidden  by  the  shadow  of  a  black  oak  cabinet  which 
stood  against  the  window.  "Sit  you  down,  my  dear 
child,"  the  kindly  old  fellow  rattled  on;  "no,  not  there, 
like  a  poor  relation;  but  here,  between  Brisson  and  me — 
you  know  Brisson, — Colonel  Brisson  of  the  Engineers. 
Brisson,  I  told  you  our  dear  boy  would  turn  up  sooner  or 
later." 

The  gallant  officer,  who  was  evidently  busy  all  this 
while  keeping  himself  under  some  great  restraint,  bowed 
without  speaking.  His  face  was  as  long  drawn  and 
depressed  as  ever.  And  having  made  his  bow,  he  turned 
this  melancholy  visage  to  De  Morin,  in  obvious  ex- 
pectancy. He  remained  standing. 

"Come,  Brisson,  seat  yourself.  No  ceremony  here, 
I  beg,"  cried  the  Count,  a  little  testily  as  it  appeared  to 
Walter.  "Now,  dear  child,  some  of  your  news.  How 
goes  the  bar,  hey?  " 

The  young  man  was  utterly  bewildered  by  this  gush- 
ing reception.  "I  have  given  up  the  bar,"  he  said 
vacantly;  then,  with  more  warmth,  "I  hate  and  loathe 
its  very  name.  I  have  abandoned  it  forever." 

"Now  that  is  extremely  curious,"  said  De  Morin, 
turning  to  Brisson,  who  was  seated  on  the  very  edge  of 
his  chair,  and  watching  Walter  with  uneasy  eyes,  "very 
curious  indeed.  Here  's  this  dear  boy  as  clever  as  they 
are  made,  with  heaps  of  brains,  and  a  great  talker,  I  '11 
be  bound;  and  yet  he  hates  the  bar.  Really,  it  reminds 
me  of  another  young  advocate  practising  here  in  Paris, 
also  a  dear  friend  of  mine.  He  took  to  writing  novels, 
and  attended  his  place  of  business  about  once  a  month. 
He  assures  me  that  finally  he  came  to  dread  going  near 
the  place,  sneaking  down  there  as  though  it  were  another 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  53 

establishment  with — with — offspring.  He  is  a  most  im- 
maculate young  fellow,  and  happily  married  besides;  and 
I  am  quite  sure  he  has  never  had  actual  cause  to  feel  the 
sensation  he  describes  so  vividly.  So  you  hate  it, 
hey?  "  The  Count  broke  off  abruptly,  and  began  to 
feel  for  his  pocket-handkerchief.  He  found  it,  and 
passed  it  across  his  eyes,  then  commenced  afresh  in  tones 
of  subdued  sweetness,  putting  the  tears  into  his  voice: 

"My  dear  Walter,  I  was  forgetting.  How  is  your 
poor  guardian?  Stop,  do  not  give  me  that  hackneyed 
answer,  I  beg.  I  know  it  well  enough  already;  and  I 
also  know  how  he  is.  He  is  full  of  joy  and  happiness 
and  satisfaction.  He  passes  day  and  night  in  contem- 
plating the  many  good  deeds  performed  during  life;  and 
his  time  is  perfect  peace.  He  is  happy,  as  you  and  I 
shall  be,  and  possibly  Brisson  here,  when  we  are  sum- 
moned," and  De  Morin  blew  his  nose.  "You  go  to 
mass  regularly?  "  he  went  on  in  the  same  subdued  strain; 
then  promptly  stifled  the  question  "Ah,  I  forgot,  you 
and  your  dear  guardian  are  Anglican.  Never  mind,  we 
shall  meet  in  Heaven.  Thank  goodness,  there  are  no 
religions  there,"  and  the  old  gentleman  said  it  as  if  he 
meant  it. 

After  a  decent  interval  lasting  about  five  seconds,  De 
Morin  turned  once  more  to  earthly  things.  "A  little 
more  of  your  news,  my  dear  creature." 

"I  have  no  news,"  Walter  responded  sulkily.  He 
fancied  that  he  began  to  see  the  meaning  of  these  tactics. 

"  Monseig —  the  gentleman  has  not  come  to  talk,  but 
to  listen,"  growled  Brisson. 

"Colonel,  I  beg!  No  news,  dear  Walter?  Surely, 
you  must  have  plenty.  To  begin  with,  how  do  you  like 
Paris?" 

"I  like  it  well  enough,"  came  the  grumbling  answer. 

"And  the  Verres,  and  Carache,  and  the  rest  of  your 
fine  friends?  And  tell  me," — this  with  a  wag  of  his 
finger  and  a  twinkle  of  his  bird-like  eyes, — "tell  me, 
how  long  do  you  imagine  all  this  is  going  to  last  on  six 
thousand  pounds?  You  rogue,  you!  I  hear  that  the 
Rue  de  Berlin,  forty-seven  B,  is  a  positive  dream.  No 
wonder  you  hate  the  bar." 


54  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Perhaps  his —  perhaps  Monsieur  does  not  mean  it  to 
last  on  six  thousand  pounds," — a  second  growl  from 
Brisson. 

"  Colonel,  I  beg!"  cried  De  Morin,  in  identically  the 
same  tone  as  before. 

"Walter,  Walter,  I  shall  have  to  come  poking  my 
old  nose  into  that  flat  of  yours,  and  see  that  you  do  not 
go  the  pace  too  fast.  Do  n't  forget,"  he  added,  with  a 
touch  of  genuine  anxiety;  "in  a  way  I  am  your  guar- 
dian now.  I  have  n't  mentioned  the  fact  before,  be- 
cause— because  you  are  a  trifle  too  old  to  need  a  regular 
guardian  any  longer.  But  always  remember  that  I  am 
the  nearest  friend,  now  that  our  poor,  dear,  stanch  old 
hero  is  no  more." 

It  was  the  most  encouraging  thing  he  had  said  yet. 
It  moreover  gave  Walter  something  of  an  opportunity. 

"For  that  very  reason,"  the  latter  blurted  out,  "I 
have  come  to  you  to-night."  Colonel  Brisson  at  once 
brightened  up,  and  seemed  sorely  tempted  to  give  our 
hero  a  little  verbal  encouragement;  but  Walter  could  get 
no  further. 

"Of  course,  of  course,"  the  Count  said  soothingly; 
"  I  knew  you  would  always  remember  the  old  days — the 
dear  old  days  at  Harrow.  Brisson  told  me  you  were  in 
Paris,  and  about  your  curious  meeting,"  and  all  the  time 
the  old  gentleman  was  saying  this  he  kept  Brisson  under 
a  stony  stare,  which  never  varied.  "I  do  call  it  a 
curious  meeting.  You,  and  he,  and  his  dear  mother,  are 
my  three  nearest  and  dearest  friends, — you  first;  but 
only  a  leetle  way.  and  then  merely  because  you  are  the 
youngest,  and  still  need  protection.  Well,  Brisson  told 
me  you  were  in  Paris,  consequently  I  have  been  living 
in  daily  expectation  of  a  visit.  I  have  not  had  to  wait 
long.  Let  me  see!  I  returned  from  Aix  on  Monday. 
This  is, —  one,  two,  three, — yes,  this  is  my  third  day  at 
home.  If  I  had  n't  been  so  old  a  friend,"  he  cooed,  "  I 
daresay  I  should  have  had  to  wait  longer;  a  week  or  a 
fortnight  at  least.  You  rogue!  What,  with  your  Verres 
and  Caraches  and  Pont£coulants,  and  your  receptions  at 
the  Elysee,  and  your  bijou  palace  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin, 
it  's  only  the  oldest  friends  who  get  even  a  look  in." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  55 

Walter  glanced  across  helplessly  at  Brisson,  at  last 
recognizing  him  as  an  ally  and  a  friend.  And  Brisson 
glanced  back  helplessly  at  Walter.  But  neither  could 
make  a  way  for  the  other.  The  kindly  old  De  Morin 
seemed  to  be  enjoying  himself  far  too  much  to  think  of 
allowing  the  conversation  to  become  general. 

"Now,  that's  all  wonderfully  interesting,"  he  con- 
tinued, without  pausing,  as  though  Walter  had  just  com- 
pleted a  long  discourse, — "  wonderfully  interesting.  Tell 
me  more — more,  my  child.  When  did  you  first  make  up 
your  mind  to  quit  London?  " 

"A  little  less  than  a  month  ago,"  very  sullenly. 
Colonel  Brisson,  who  had  been  fidgetting  all  this  while 
uneasily  in  his  chair,  could  contain  himself  no  longer. 
Those  trifling  outbursts,  already  alluded  to  as  stillborn, 
naturally  afforded  him  no  relief.  He  now  proceeded  to 
deliver  himself  of  an  observation,  which  the  usual  "Col- 
onel, I  beg!  "  from  De  Morin,  could  not  manage  to  stifle. 
In  itself  the  remark  was  not  profound. 

"You  should  remember,  Count" — "Colonel,  I 
beg!" — "No,  pardon  me,  you  should  remember  that 
Monsieur  Sadler  has  probably  many  things  to  ask  you," 
— and  the  Colonel  looked  hard  at  Walter. 

"Yes,  truly,"  cried  the  latter,  seizing  upon  this  op- 
portunity in  sheer  desperation,  and  now  utterly  careless 
as  to  the  possible  chance  of  making  a  fool  of  himself. 
"A  few  moments  ago  you  called  yourself  my  nearest 
friend?  " 

De  Morin  nodded. 

"And  I — I  regard  you  as  my  only  friend." 

De  Morin  nodded  again. 

"You  know  as  much  about  me  as  I  do  myself.  While 
I  have  known  you  ever  since  I  can  remember." 

De  Morin  nodded  a  third  time. 

"It  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  in  total  ignorance 
about  one's  parents,"  continued  Walter,  trying  another 
avenue  of  approach. 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you. " 

"I  am  sure  that  it  will  be  within  your  recollection 
that  I  frequently  tried  to  find  out  from  my  guardian  who 
my  parents  really  were." 


56  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"Quite." 

"And  that  he  always  answered  that  he  was  not  at 
liberty  to  tell." 

"  Which  was  the  fact,  I  feel  certain." 
"The  week  before  he  died  I  pressed  him  again  upon 
this  point,  and  he  repulsed  me  with  the  same  excuse. 
After  his  death  I  went  to  his  papers,  hoping  to  discover 
therein  some  mention  of  my  parentage  and  history.  But 
I  could  find  never  a  word." 

"What  a  careful  fellow  he  was,"  sighed  De  Morin. 

"Never  a  word,"  Walter  went  on,  waxing  a  trifle 
more  emphatic;  "though  I  searched  his  papers  through 
and  through  from  beginning  to  end,  and  spent  days  in 
looking." 

"Possibly  you  did  not  get  hold  of  all  his  papers, " 
the  Count  suggested,  anxiously. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  did;  Mr  Wyse  saw  to  that.  I  went 
through  all  his  papers  without  finding  so  much  as  a  single 
word  about  myself." 

"Very  distressing  indeed,  I  admit  it." 

Walter  was  at  a  loss  how  to  continue.  He  mentally 
rehearsed  half  a  hundred  different  ways,  shelving  the 
difficulty  at  last  by  this  abrupt  question: 

"  Who  am  I?     Who  was  my  father?" 

De  Morin  became  suddenly  grave. 

"Do  you  really  ask  me  that  question?" 

"Certainly,  I  do.  If  you  know,  tell  me.  I  have  been 
ignorant  too  long." 

"I  know,  "said  De  Morin  dubiously;  "I  know,  but — 
but —  Be  good  enough  to  repeat  your  request  slowly." 

Walter's  heart  was  beating  very,  very  fast  under  the 
strain  of  these  preliminaries.  "Who  am  I?  Who  was 
my  father?"  he  repeated,  this  time  with  a  voice  that 
shook. 

"  Brisson,  you  hear  him?" 

"  I  hear  him,"  growled  the  ever-candid  Colonel;  "  and 
I  regard  your  precautions  as  quite  ridiculous. "  De  Morin 
rose  and  moved  slowly  towards  the  cabinet  against  which 
the  last  speaker  had  his  chair.  Unfastening  what  seemed 
to  Walter  an  intolerable  quantity  of  locks,  he  drew  forth 
a  bundle  of  papers,  old  letters  they  looked  like,  mostly 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  57 

begrimed  and  yellow  with  age.  His  next  move  was  to 
the  door:  "Marie,"  he  shouted,  his  glossy  head  dis- 
appearing for  a  moment,  "  we  are  not  on  any  account  to 
be  disturbed.  These  gentlemen  will  not  stay  to  supper." 
The  head  reappeared,  and  the  body  moved  towards  the 
table.  He  seated  himself,  and  with  a  single  twist  of  his 
hand  undid  the  bundle  so  that  the  papers  lay  in  a  scat- 
tered heap  before  him. 

And  this  had  been  done  with  the  most  intense  delib- 
eration. Walter  felt  that,  having  waited  so  long,  he  could 
afford  to  wait  a  little  longer. 

"  Come,  gentlemen, "  the  Count  cried  presently,  "seat 
yourselves.  Brisson  here,  and  Walter  on  my  left;  that's 
right — now  we  are  cosy." 

"Walter,"  he  began  with  great  gravity,  and  turning 
half  round  in  his  arm-chair  so  as  to  look  that  young  gentle- 
man straight  in  the  face,  "  always  remember  this, — what 
I  am  about  to  tell  you,  is  told  you  solely  on  your  solici- 
tation. If  trouble  comes  hereafter,  either  to  you  or  to 
others,  mind,  no  responsibility  attaches  to  me." 

"I  understand,"  Walter  rejoined. 

"That  is  settled," — more  cheerfully.  "  Now  to  busi- 
ness. And,  first  of  all,  permit  me  to  remark  that  our  dear 
friend  Brisson  here  and  Madame  have  considerably  dis- 
counted the  surprise  you  might  otherwise  have  felt,  had 
you  come  to  me  direct  for  your  story." 

"Then  it  is  true,"  murmured  Sadler;  and,  strange  as 
it  may  seem,  he  felt  no  particular  emotion. 

"Yes,  it  is  true,"  De  Morin  replied,  slightly  smiling. 
"  You  are  a  Bonaparte." 

"  The  Bonaparte,"  cried  Brisson. 

"  The  Bonaparte,  if  you  prefer  it.  And  may  you 
never  regret  Walter  Sadler." 

"  My  name?  " — "  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  Your 
father  was  Paul  Bonaparte,  grandson,  by  an  earlier  and 
an  unknown  marriage,  of  the  great  Emperor." — "Then 
I  am  Napoleon's  great-grandson?"  gasped  Walter. — 
"Yes,  I  trust  it  will  bring  you  luck,"  and  De  Morin 
looked  dubious. 

"My  God!  how  could  I  have  endured  Pimlico? " 

"There  is  more  honour  in  store  for  you,"  the  elder 


58  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

continued  with  a  grin.  "You  are  my  great-nephew. 
Your  mother  was  a  Mademoiselle  Zenia,  daughter  of  my 
lamented  wife's  only  sister.  Now  for  your  story."  The 
Count  de  Morin  cleared  his  throat,  threw  himself  back 
in  his  chair  to  inspect  the  ceiling,  took  a  deep  breath, 
and  so  at  last  began : 

"In  the  December  of  1789,  Second-Lieutenant  Bona- 
parte, then  barely  twenty,  being  at  home  on  leave  of 
absence,  secretly  married  the  daughter  of  an  Italian 
doctor  whose  family  had  been  for  many  generations  res- 
ident in  Sartena.  Here  is  the  document  attesting  the 
marriage.  It  never  quitted  Napoleon's  possession.  He 
kept  it  among  his  scent-bottles:  that  stain  is  eau-de- 
cologne.  The  sub-lieutenant  remained  near  his  wife 
exactly  fourteen  months.  It  was  a  love-match,  you 
observe.  A  child  was  born,  December,  1790;  and  twelve 
weeks  later,  Napoleon  returned  to  France.  He  never 
saw  his  wife  again.  And  in  a  few  years,  when  Pauline 
found  that  he  had  gone  forever,  she  migrated  with  her 
child  to  Cremona,  whence  her  family  had  sprung.  She 
received  a  handsome  allowance  on  condition  that  she 
never  attempted  to  divulge  her  secret.  She  obeyed  like  a 
sensible  woman.  Report  says  she  felt  not  the  slightest 
envy  towards  either  Josephine  or  Marie  Louise.  She 
kept  her  boy  in  total  ignorance  as  to  his  parentage. 
1  Dr.  Capelli  (the  lad  followed  his  maternal  grandfather's 
profession,  and  retained  the  latter's  name)  lived  his 
whole  life  in  peace  in  Cremona,  and  died  in  1840,  leav- 
ing one  son.  This  son,  Paul  Lucien  Capelli,  was  your 
father.  Here,  if  you  care  to  see  them,  are  the  certifi- 
cates bearing  witness  to  these  facts. 

"  Now,  my  own  father,  as  you  doubtless  know 
already,  was  for  many  years  confidential  servant  to  the 
Emperor.  He  alone,  of  those  who  surrounded  the 
throne,  learnt  of  this  early  marriage,  and  in  accordance 
with  his  master's  orders,  handed  the  story  unto  me,  with 
this  expression  of  his  Majesty's  desire  —  no,  do  not 
bother  to  read  it  all;  there  are  the  important  words:  '  If 
the  line  through  the  Empress  fails,  then  I  direct  that  my 
descendants  by  my  marriage  with  Pauline  Capelli,  now 
domiciled  in  Cremona,  shall  ascend  the  throne.'  Papa 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  59 

died  in  1834.  I  was  but  fourteen  years  of  age;  besides, 
there  was  no  throne  to  enjoy:  it  appeared  to  me  that 
Capelli  was  happier  giving  pills  to  the  people  of  Cre- 
mona than  chasing  phantoms.  My  trials  began  when 
Louis  Napoleon  became  head  of  the  family.  Strasbourg 
threw  me  into  a  ferment,  quite  prematurely,  as  you  can 
understand.  Your  father,  Lucien  Capelli,  continued  to 
live  on  quietly  in  Cremona  with  his  widowed  mother. 
He  had  money,  and  no  taste  for  medicine,  and  slid  into  a 
life  of  amiable  dilettantism,  which  sometimes  roused 
itself  sufficiently  to  do  a  little  gardening. 

"  December,  1848,  is  a  great  date  in  the  history  of 
your  house.  Louis  Napoleon,  who  knew  your  story,  sent 
for  me  the  night  he  was  elected  President,  and  repeated, 
in  substance,  what  he  had  said  at  Strasbourg  twelve  years 
before.  '  Your  Cremonese  family  must  wait  until  I,  and 
any  son  of  mine,  have  done.  Should  my  direct  line  fail, 
then  the  Bonapartes  of  Sartena  may  follow.'  Could  I 
be  anything  else  but  satisfied, — I,  a  poor  courtier?  Un- 
happily, though  I  am  exceedingly  sagacious,  I  am  also  a 
trifle  talkative.  My  wife  divulged  the  secret  to  her 
sister,  a  woman  who  was  as  full  of  ambitions,  intrigues, 
and  schemes  as  some  lemons  are  of  juice.  This  sister 
(and  you  must  forgive  my  speaking  ill  of  your  deceased 
grandmother)  went  to  Cremona  in  1860  with  the  delibe- 
rate intention  of  trapping  your  father  into  a  marriage 
with  her  daughter.  Cremona  is  only  a  small  place — suf- 
fice to  say,  her  wild  project  succeeded.  How,  I  cannot 
tell  you;  but  Madame  Zenia  was  no  ordinary  woman, 
while  Mademoiselle,  your  future  mother,  possessed  a 
face  that  certainly  could  not  be  termed  ill-looking. 
However  that  may  be,  the  fact  remains.  Before  he  was 
thirty-one,  your  poor  father  found  himself  burdened  with 
an  ambitious  and  discontented  wife,  and  a  secret  which 
was  to  prove  his  ruin. 

"  They  came  to  Paris  and  ordered  me  to  place  them 
upon  the  throne.  I  ask  you,  what  could  I  do?  I  took 
what  I  still  think  was  my  wisest  course:  I  brought  your 
father  face  to  face  with  the  Emperor.  The  latter  re- 
peated what  he  had  told  me  three  times  already.  He 
consented  to  make  your  father  an  allowance,  only  stip- 


60  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

ulating  that  the  matter  should  be  kept  the  profound 
secret  it  still  was.  Your  father,  who  loved  quiet  and 
good  living,  consented  readily.  He  bought  a  comfort- 
able house  at  Versailles;  gave  out  that  he  was  a  wealthy 
Brazilian  coffee-planter;  and  spent  his  days  tending  his 
garden.  Madame,  however,  and  that  terrible  mother- 
in-law,  took  the  matter  less  philosophically.  Your  birth 
in  1869  redoubled  their  bitterness,  their  passionate  re- 
proaches. The  miseries  of  1870  gave  them  their  chance. 
On  the  morning  of  the  Empress's  flight,  this  poor  fellow, 
urged  on  by  his  women,  sallied  forth  at  the  head  of  two 
footmen,  a  coachman,  and  a  groom, — all  of  whom 
deserted  him  at  the  first  opportunity, — and  made  for 
Paris.  At  the  barrier  they  strove  to  capture  him  un- 
harmed. He  set  his  back  to  the  wall  and  fought  valiantly 
for  his  throne.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  try 
and  wing  him,  and  in  the  attempt  they  shot  him  through 
the  heart.  Thus  the  Empire  devolved  upon  you  and 
another  unhappy  little  boy  who  was  already  a  fugitive. 

"  I  was  busy  myself  at  the  time,  I  can  tell  you.  The 
government  were  flattering  enough  to  call  for  me,  alive 
or  dead.  At  Calais  I  had  to  hide  for  twelve  whole  days 
in  sight  of  sanctuary!  But  to  get  back  to  your  affairs. 
It  fell  to  my  lot  to  carry  the  terrible  news  to  Versailles. 
And,  busy  as  I  was,  I  placed  my  very  being  at  the  disposal 
of  you  and  your  unhappy  mother.  My  poor  wife  was 
good  enough  to  take  charge  of  Madame  Zenia.  Yes,  I  was 
devotion  itself.  It  was  a  danger  for  me  even  to  be  seen 
about  the  streets,  but  in  your  service  I  showed  myself  a 
lion.  First  of  all,  I  attended  to  your  father's  burial. 
You  shall  visit  the  grave:  Paul  Lucien  Capelli  we  have 
called  him  on  his  tomb.  Then  I  carried  you  and 
Madame  over  to  England,  and  deposited  the  two  of  you 
in  a  dear  little  cottage  at  Malvern  Wells.  From  Malvern 
I  went  to  Chiselhurst,  and,  I  can  assure  you,  proved 
equally  invaluable.  I  spent  that  winter  and  the  spring 
of  '71  in  London.  Being  thus,  so  to  speak,  half  way 
between  both  families,  I  was  able  to  assist  either  with 
my  sagacity  and  experience.  Your  poor  mother  relapsed 
by  degrees  into  a  state  of  placid  resignation.  At  any 
rate,  she  had  you  with  her;  and  I  need  scarcely  say  that 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  61 

every  week  you  gave  some  fresh  signs  of  your  later  in- 
telligence and  high  character.  But  dear  little  cottages 
in  the  country  need  money  to  keep  them  up;  and  your 
mother's  pecuniary  outlook  caused  me  a  deal  of  anxiety. 
The  allowance  made  to  her  husband  during  the  continu- 
ance of  the  Empire  had  ceased  with  its  fall;  and,  as 
you  know, — or  will  know,  by  and  by, — one  cannot  go  on 
indefinitely  living  upon  capital.  In  desperation  I  ven- 
tured to  speak  to  the  ex-Emperor  about  the  matter.  I 
regret  to  say,  the  only  time  I  ever  saw  him  smile  after 
his  disasters  was  when  I  mentioned  your  poor  father's 
heroic  death.  But  he  behaved  very  generously,  all  the 
same.  He  could  not,  of  course,  be  expected  to  continue 
the  old  allowance;  but  he  substituted  a  yearly  sum  which 
amply  sufficed  for  your  modest  menage,  as  well  as  for 
the  amount  of  education  you  personally  needed  at  the 
time — it  was  n't  much.  He  also  appointed  me  your  guar- 
dian, with  power  to  delegate  my  office  if  I  found  this  neces- 
sary. As  regards  the  throne,  he  informed  me,  without 
moving  a  muscle  of  his  face,  that  he  was  not  thinking  of 
thrones  just  then. 

"Prince  Louis  was  present  at  our  interview.  'This 
is  the  man  you  must  speak  to  on  that  subject,'  said  his 
father,  with  love  in  his  voice,  the  love  which  always  came 
at  such  times;  'not  to  me.  He  is  fated  to  restore  the 
fortunes  of  our  house;  not  I,'  and,  as  I  remember,  he 
laid  his  hand  tenderly  upon  the  boy's  shoulder.  Poor 
father, " — De  Morin  here  paused  to  ejaculate  with  a  touch 
of  genuine  pathos, — "he  paid  a  very  heavy  price  for 
Sedan." 

The  upshot  of  it  all  was  that  Prince  Louis  agreed  to 
take  his  little  cousin  under  his  charge.  He  visited  Mal- 
vern,  and  kissed  you  and  petted  you,  and  no  doubt 
looked  upon  this  loving  condescension  as  the  first  stone 
in  the  rebuilding  of  his  Empire.  Your  mother's  cottage 
stood  in  the  midst  of  a  delightful  garden.  It  was  a 
pretty  sight,  I  can  tell  you,  to  see  you  two  children  play- 
ing together  upon  the  shaded  lawn,  both  of  you  so  help- 
less, despite  the  thirteen  years  that  lay  between  you; 
both  so  helpless,  and  both  heirs  to  the  same  great 


62  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Empire,  which  no  one  believed  for  an  instant  you  would, 
either  of  you,  ever  win  back. 

"But  that  was  a  time  when  death  was  very  busy  in 
your  family.  Madame  Zenia  survived  the  son-in-law, 
whom  she  had  assisted  to  kill,  by  about  three  months; 
and  your  poor  mother  took  to  her  bed  in  the  autumn  of 
1871,  and  never  left  it.  She  died  the  November  of  the 
same  year.  On  her  deathbed  she  tried  to  make  me 
promise  solemnly  that  I  would  never  tell  you  your  story. 
Obviously,  I  could  give  no  such  undertaking.  But  I  met 
her  half  way.  I  passed  her  my  sacred  word  that  I  would 
never  volunteer  any  statement  upon  the  subject.  Of 
course,  if  you  asked  me  point  blank,  the  thing  would  be 
different.  You  observe,  I  have  carried  out  her  instruc- 
tions to  the  very  letter." 

"And  acted  very  foolishly,  in  my  opinion,"  was  the 
uncompromising  suggestion  from  Brisson. 

"I  am  the  sole  judge  of  that,"  De  Morin  rejoined 
with  dignity.  "  Poor  thing,  her  husband's  tragic  fate 
had  sobered  her  wonderfully.  She  dreaded  nothing  so 
much  as  empire.  Prince  Louis'  visits  were  her  dreariest 
days.  Nothing  pleased  her  more  than  the  thought  that 
he  was  strong  and  healthy,  and  might  live  to  have  many 
children.  'My  boy  needs  no  throne,'  was  among  the 
last  things  she  said  to  me.  '  He  will  be  clever — he  is 
clever;  he  can  make  a  name  for  himself  in  England.' 
You  were  sitting  beside  the  bed,  and  she  took  you  in  her 
arms  and  fondled  you.  Happily  she  did  not  suffer  much, 
nor  linger.  I  verily  believe  that  my  qualified  assurances 
helped  to  ease  any  physical  pain  she  may  have  felt.  I 
remember,  the  night  she  died,  she  made  me  repeat  them; 
then  passed  into  darkness  with  a  radiant  face.  Poor 
thing,  she  was  not  of  the  stuff  queens  are  made  of. 
Your  future  now  came  forward  as  a  question  demanding 
an  immediate  answer.  The  ex-Emperor  lay  dying  at 
Chiselhurst.  They  could  not  take  you  there,  even  had 
they  so  desired.  I  felt  too  confirmed  a  bird  of  passage 
to  offer  my  services.  I  had,  moreover,  already  moved 
into  this  flat,  and  I  did  not  see  my  way  to  housing  con- 
traband, even  in  small  quantities.  Your  old  guardian 
stepped  into  the  breach.  He  had  managed  your  cousin's 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  63 

English  investments — of  which  there  were  a  good  many, 
I  can  assure  you — for  close  on  twenty  years.  He  was 
thoroughly  upright  and  reliable;  and,  as  you  know  better 
than  any  one  can  tell  you,  benevolence  itself." 

"You  are  right  there,"  Walter  interposed  with 
softened  voice. 

"Well,  the  thing  was  arranged;  and  it  proved  the  last 
piece  of  business  the  ex-Emperor  transacted.  You  were 
to  pass  altogether  into  your  new  guardian's  keeping, 
taking  six  thousand  pounds  with  you,  exactly  half  of  the 
amount  settled  a  few  months  earlier  upon  your  mother. 
I,  faithful  to  the  last,  carried  you  to  Harrow,  and  handed 
you  into  my  successor's  keeping.  We  agreed  that  you 
would  do  better  with  an  English  name, — that  among 
other  things,  of  course,  to  show  you  with  what  thorough- 
ness we  managed  your  affairs.  And  to  show  you,  further- 
more, on  what  small  incidents  great  issues  hang,  I  may 
mention  that  we  called  you  Walter  after  your  guardian; 
and  Sadler,  because  we  happened  to  discuss  the  matter 
in  a  harness-shop  in  Piccadilly.  You  must  have  passed 
your  baptismal  font  a  million  times.  From  Harrow  I 
returned  to  Paris  with  the  feeling  that  I  might  now  rest 
a  while  as  a  good  and  faithful  servant.  For  near  forty 
years  had  I  been  working  on  behalf  of  the  Capelli  branch. 
And  right  well,  so  I  considered,  had  I  performed  my 
task.  This  charming  flat  received  me.  I  determined 
that  it  should  serve  as  the  haven  of  my  declining  years. 

"  But  God  disposes.  In  1879 — and  you  must  forgive 
these  dates:  they  are  necessary — the  English  slaughtered 
the  Prince  Imperial.  To  the  outside  world  the  head- 
ship of  the  family  now  devolved  upon  Prince  Napoleon, 
son  of  the  late  King  Jerome.  It  became  necessary  for 
me  to  start  my  work  afresh;  to  commence,  so  to  speak, 
once  again  with  Strasbourg.  The  grass  never  grows 
under  my  feet.  I  started  out  for  England  at  an  hour's 
notice  to  lay  these  papers  before  the  new  Pretender. 
Plon-Plon, — I  beg  your  pardon,!  'm  sure,  Prince  Napoleon 
accorded  me  but  a  doubtful  welcome.  The  late  Emperor 
had  been  far  too  fond  of  me  for  the  Prince  to  trust  my 
protestations  of  fidelity  and  friendship.  The  latter  was  po- 
lite, but  also  very,  very  frigid.  My  story  drove  him  into  a 


64  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

paroxysm  of  rage.  He  declared  the  thing  to  be  a  '  plant ' 
— a  piece  of  posthumous  spite  on  the  part  of  his  late  cousin. 
God  knew,  he  did  n't  want  to  be  head  of  the  wretched 
family.  He  wished  to  heavens  that  the  whole  lot  of 
them,  except  himself,  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  Red 
Sea.  He  did  n't  hanker  after  the  throne.  All  he  asked 
for  was  to  be  left  in  peace.  But — but — but  he  had  no 
intention  of  being  supplanted  by  a  wretched  supposititious 
infant.  If  the  firm  was  to  continue  at  all,  the  time  had 
arrived  for  it  to  be  represented  by  some  one  of  the  blood. 
But  he  could  not  get  over  the  documents.  And  to  do 
Plon — the  Prince  this  justice,  once  he  felt  really  satis- 
fied, he  showed  himself  overwhelmed  with  joy.  He 
wrung  me  warmly  by  the  hand;  told  me  again  and  again 
that  I  had  rendered  him  a  great  service;  and  declared  at 
parting  that  if  only  the  gods  were  kind  enough  '  not  to 
make  this  little  Capelli  creature  inquisitive,'  you,  and  he 
and  I,  between  us,  would  stifle  all  the  life  out  of  the 
Napoleonic  legend,  and  manage  to  hand  down  some  sort 
of  peace  to  our  respective  descendants.  I  informed  him 
that,  personally  I  had  n't  got  any  descendants.  He 
replied  it  did  not  matter;  he  meant  figuratively. 

"So  I  spread  your  story  far  and  wide.  Plon-Plon's 
children  learnt  of  you,  and  shrugged  their  shoulders. 
They  are  shrugging  them  now.  '  If  Capelli  wants  the 
throne,'  say  they,  'let  him  fight  for  it  himself.  We 
sha'n't  fight  for  him.'  Soon  every  Bonapartist  through- 
out France  came  to  know  your  history.  The  Capelli 
tomb  is  a  sort  of  minor  Invalides.  Carache,  when  he  is 
very  angry,  sometimes  declares  that  he  will  have  your 
poor  papa  exhumed  and  scattered  to  the  winds.  But 
not  a  soul,  save  Brisson  here,  and  Brisson's  dear  mother, 
could  say  what  had  become  of  you  subsequent  to  your 
disappearance  from  Malvern  Wells.  Plon-Plon,  to  be 
sure,  got  this  much  out  of  me :  that  you  were  living  some- 
where in  England,  and  under  an  assumed  name:  and 
that  you  were  not  to  be  told  your  history  unless  you 
asked  for  it.  That  much  quite  satisfied  him.  Your 
advent  offered  a  chance  of  ending  Imperialism  for  good 
and  all.  'Because  one  man  is  an  undertaker,'  was  a 
favourite  saying  with  him,  '  is  no  reason  why  his  descend- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  65 

ants  should  be  undertakers;  and  neither  I  nor  little 
Capelli  have  any  desire  to  be  Emperors.'  In  this  way 
Plon-Plon,  who  could  succeed  in  nothing,  '  not  even  in 
dying,'  yet  went  out  of  life  a  comparatively  happy  man. 
"  It  becomes  necessary  to  explain  Brisson.  And  really 
when  I  reflect  what  an  unmitigated  nuisance  he  has  been 
in  the  matter,  I  find  this  explanation  the  most  difficult 
thing  of  all.  I  am  getting  old.  I  am  old.  My  poor 
wife  is  dead,  blessed  be  her  memory!  She  is  with  your 
guardian,  or,  I  should  say,  they  are  both  in  the  same 
place.  I  have  no  son.  My  only  near  relative  is  my 
nephew  Louis," — and  the  kindly  old  gentleman  looked 
across  at  Walter  with  great  affection.  "Accordingly,  I 
entrusted  the  secret  to  Brisson,  my  oldest  and  closest 
friend;  and  Brisson  entrusted  it  to  his  dear  mother  be- 
cause— well,  because  she  is  a  lady  of  somewhat  decided 
character,  and  because  Brisson,  though  over  forty  and 
a  colonel  of  engineers,  is  still  a  dutiful  son.  You  and  I, 
dear  Louis,  who  are  orphans,  cannot  understand  the 
influence  which  a  strong-minded  mother  will  always  exert 
over  her  only  child.  But  that  is  by  the  way;  and  I  can 
assure  you,  my  darling  nephew,  I  have  had  ample  cause 
to  regret  taking  this  docile  creature  into  my  confidence. 
From  the  day  he  first  learnt  the  secret  he  has  not  left  me 
a  single  minute's  peace.  Have  you,  Brisson?  To  look 
at  him,  one  would  put  down  eloquence  as  the  least  likely 
of  his  accomplishments;  but  you  should  hear  him  on 
'Walter  Sadler.'  Couldn't  you  repeat  some  of  the 
things  for  Louis'  benefit?  Oh,  the  folly  he  talked!  He 
declared  that  I  was  cheating  you  out  of  your  inheritance; 
France  out  of  its  rightful  sovereign;  and  the  Lord  knows 
whom  besides  out  of  the  Lord  knows  what.  He  main- 
tained that  my  promise  to  your  mother  was  no  prom- 
ise; that  she  had  no  right  to  exact  it;  that  I  had  no 
right  to  give  it;  and  that  it  could  not  possibly  be  kept. 
And  once  a  week  regularly,  I  do  assure  you,  he  would  rush 
out  of  this  dining-room,  declaring  as  he  went  that  he 
intended  to  go  straight  to  the  Gare  du  Nord  and  Pimlico. 
I  had  one  invariable  answer.  I  always  told  him  that  he 
might  go,  but  if  he  did,  I  should  burn  the  papers.  Yes, 
he  grew  quite  mad  on  the  subject.  He  used  to  see  you 


66  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

at  every  corner.  In  the  streets  he  would  suddenly  clutch 
my  arm,  and,  pointing  to  some  sandwich-man  or  cab- 
driver,  shout  out  that  you  had  come.  Hence  his  unex- 
pected appearance  at  Aix  the  other  day  did  not  serve  to 
convince  me  that  you  were  really  here.  Madame,  who, 
you  may  have  noticed,  has  rather  different  views  about 
you,  backed  up  her  son's  assertion.  But  I  felt  convinced 
that  both  of  them,  in  their  separate  ways,  had  arrived  at 
the  same  monomania,  and  I  remained  incredulous.  To 
satisfy  Brisson,  I  wrote  to  London.  Your  landlady  replied 
that  you  had  left  for  Paris,  address  unknown.  The 
same  day  came  a  letter  from  Madame  Brisson  enclosing 
your  card,  which  she  had  recovered  from  the  dustbin. 
After  that,  of  course,  further  doubts  upon  the  matter 
became  altogether  impossible.  Another  hint  as  to  your 
doings  reached  me  through  my  broker,  Petrophorous. " 

De  Morin  cleared  his  throat  for  the  peroration. 
"  There,  my  dear  Louis,  you  have  your  story  as  com- 
pletely as  I  can  give  it  you.  Your  destiny  henceforth  is 
in  your  own  hands.  My  task  is  done.  Ah,  Brisson,  in 
finding  this  sole  remaining  relative,  you  have  lost  him  to 
me  forever.  His  fond  old  uncle,  who  shielded  his  child- 
hood and  lightened  the  road  of  adolescence,  must  now 
yield  place  to  an  admiring  world.  The  guardian  becomes 
a  subject.  I  lose  my  nephew;  I  regain  my  Prince.  Dear 
kinsman,  farewell.  Welcome,  your  Imperial  Highness. 
Brisson,  I  forgive  you." 

Napoleon  flung  away  all  remnants  of  Walter  Sadler. 

"  Count  de  Morin,"  he  said  impressively,  "I  thank 
you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart." 


Chapter  V 


Meanwhile  Colonel  Brisson  stood  at  attention.  "  lam 
waiting,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  a  question  from  De  Morin, 
"  until  it  shall  please  his  Majesty  to  address  me." 

"  My  good  friend,"  the  Count  cried  fiercely,  "  please 
understand  that  we  Bonapartists  do  not  hold  the  doc- 
trine of  indefeasible  divine  right.  There  is  no  throne  in 
France,  therefore  there  can  be  no  Emperor.  Your 
Highness,  am  I  not  right?" 

"  Something  might  be  said  for  the  doctrine,"  Napo- 
leon began,  pompously. 

"  It  might,  but  it  is  n't.  We  do  n't  split  such  hairs  in 
France.  And  now  I  really  must  be  off  to  my  constitu- 
tional. Come  and  lunch  on  the  ist  of  July.  Till  then 
we  may  as  well  adjourn.  There,  that  is  settled.  Possi- 
bly you  would  like  to  walk  with  me.  Mind,  no  busi- 
ness— indeed,  it  would  not  be  safe  in  the  streets." 

"  Thank  you,  I  fear  I  am  too  weak-minded  to  talk  or 
even  think  of  anything  save  what  you  are  pleased  to 
call  'business.'  I  daresay  Colonel  Brisson  is  of  my 
opinion?  " 

"Assuredly,  Monseigneur.  De  Morin's  task  is  only 
half  performed.  He  has  told  you  the  past;  it  remains 
for  him  to  help  you  consider  the  future." 

"There  is  no  future." 

"At  least  we  two  can  get  to  work  at  once,"  Brisson 
went  on,  unmindful.  "The  Count  can  join  in,  directly 
he  returns.  We  could  sup  here,  and  sit  on  till  a  very 
late  hour:  well,  De  Morin?  " 

"  Absolutely  impossible.  Marie  has  the  evening  off : 
there  can't  be  any  supper  here  to-night." 

"  Perhaps  his  Highness  will  accompany  me  to  the 
Rue  du  Bac?" 

67 


68  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"I  shall  be  delighted." 

"Your  dear  mother  may  not  prove  over-amiable," 
De  Morin  interjected,  with  a  malicious  chuckle. 

"  I  forgot.  There  remains  my  apartment  in  the  Rue 
de  Penthievre.  Monseigneur's  homeward  road  takes 
him  past  the  gates." 

"  Admirable.     Let  us  drive  there  at  once." 

De  Morin  glared  at  the  two  of  them,  virtuous  indig- 
nation writ  large  on  every  feature  of  his  mobile  face. 

"Colonel  Brisson,  lam  ashamed  of  you.  The  bar- 
racks! Why  not  the  Prefecture  at  once?  Really,  did  I 
not  know  you,  I  should  commence  to  doubt  your  good 
faith." 

"What  do  you  mean?  "  shouted  the  worthy  Colonel, 
his  face,  his  whole  frame,  working  like  some  volcano  be- 
fore an  eruption.  "What  do  you  mean,  you — you — " 

Monseigneur,  who  was  really  doing  uncommonly  well, 
calmed  him  with  a  gesture  full  of  dignity  and  grace. 

"I  would  accompany  Colonel  Brisson  anywhere,"  the 
Prince  said  sternly.  "My  dear  Colonel,  you  have  for- 
gotten my  own  abode  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin.  You  shall 
come  home  and  sup  with  me.  We  can  have  a  busy  even- 
ing all  to  ourselves  over  my  affairs." 

The  faithful  fellow  made  his  usual  answer — a  deep 
bow  eloquent  of  intense  devotion. 

De  Morin  meanwhile  had  drifted  back  to  his  former 
seat  by  the  table.  "I  suppose  I  shall  have  to 
forego  my  constitutional,"  said  he,  making  a  plaintive 
attempt  at  humour.  "  It  must  not  be  said  that  I  failed 
my  master  the  very  first  time  he  directly  demanded  my 
poor  services, "  and  he  gazed  across  at  Napoleon  with 
an  affection  which  said  quite  plainly,  "  I  wish  to  heaven 
my  dear  master  had  stayed  and  perished  in  Pimlico. " 

He  next  proceeded  to  smile  viciously  at  the  hand-bell 
which  stood  at  his  elbow.  "Marie,  "he  said,  "these 
gentlemen  will  stop  to  supper.  Now,"  he  continued 
after  the  servant  had  withdrawn,  "  to  business,  my 
friends,  if  you  please  ";  then,  sinking  his  head  onto  his 
arm,  he  relapsed  into  sullen  gloom. 

"I  could  not  have  come  at  a  more  propitious  mo- 
ment," Napoleon  began. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  69 

"Indeed,  no,"  rejoined  Brisson.  "France  has  only 
to  hear  your  name,  to  offer  you  the  throne.  I  have  told 
De  Morin  so  repeatedly." 

"  Everything  helps  to  confirm  that  view.  I  do  not 
mind  confessing  I  have  kept  eyes  and  ears  open  during 
the  last  few  days.  The  man  in  the  street  is  waiting  for 
me." 

"I  disagree  altogether,"  snarled  De  Morin.  "The 
psychological  moment — if  it  was  ever  with  us — has  gone 
by.  January,  yes;  your  highness  might have  done  some- 
thing. Since  then,  however,  things  have  righted  them- 
selves. The  chance  possibly  never  existed  at  all:  it 
certainly  exists  no  longer." 

"  De  Morin,  you  are  wrong," — from  Brisson. 
"  I  can  only  say  you  ought  to  have  summoned  me  in 
January." 

"You  forget  my  promise  to  your  mother." 
"  The  Emperor  has  no  mother,"  the  Prince  exclaimed 
grandiloquently,   regretting  these  foolish  words  the  in- 
stant they  were  uttered. 

"That  may  be  as  it  may,"  De  Morin  sneered.  "The 
one  incontrovertible  fact  remains — the  time  has  gone 
by." 

"  De  Morin,  you  are  wrong," — from  the  warrior  in  the 
corner. 

"If  you  were  to  declare  yourself  to-day,  you  would 
be  laughed  at.  Carache  would  merely  send  a  couple  of 
gens-d'armes  down  to  the  Rue  de  Berlin  with  orders  to 
effect  your  arrest.  Believe  me,  not  a  soul  in  Paris  ex- 
cept Brisson  perhaps,  and  of  course  myself,  would  dare 
to  raise  a  finger  in  your  defence.  The  two  of  us  might, 
and  no  doubt  would,  fly  to  the  barricades;  but  what  are 
two  against  gens-d'armes?  Brisson  and  I  would  be  com- 
pelled to  surrender.  What  comes  next?  I  cannot  pre- 
dict precisely.  In  all  probability  nothing  worse  than 
expulsion.  So  much  for  his  Imperial  Majesty  Napo- 
leon IV!" 

"  You  are  wrong;  you  are  wrong, "  Brisson  vociferated, 
growing  quite  voluble  with  excitement.  "There  never 
was  a  more  fitting  time.  One  has  only  to  walk  about  the 
streets  to  see  it." 


70  'THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"You  and  his  Highness  have  sharp  eyes,"  sneered 
De  Morin. 

"We  are  not  intentionally  blind," — from  Napoleon. 

"  Everywhere  I  go,"  Brisson  continued,  "  I  hear  the 
same  thing.  Not  a  man  but  agrees  that  the  time  is  ripe 
for  a. coup  d'etat,  while  most  appear  to  regret  that  there  is 
no  pretender  handy  to  make  one.  This  feeling  prevails 
especially  in  the  army.  I  am  a  soldier;  De  Morin  isn't. 
Surely  I  must  know  better  than  he." 

"I  have  yet  to  learn  that  one  battalion  of  engineers 
constitutes  '  the  army.'  >! 

"Your  Highness  knows  what  I  mean.  I  repeat, 
there  is  not  a  private  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
France  who  isn't  sick  to  death  of  the  Republic.  We 
want  Alsace-Lorraine  back.  What  good  are  twenty- 
seven  years  of  work  and  study,  if  we  are  not  to  use  it? 
We  want  Alsace-Lorraine  back.  And  we  shall  never  get 
it  while  this  wretched  Republic  continues." 

"We  should  never  have  lost  it,"  murmured  De  Morin, 
"were  this  'wretched  Republic'  a  little  bit  older." 

"We  should  never  have  had  it  to  lose,  were  the  Re- 
public older  still,"  Brisson  rejoined,  surprising  himself 
and  every  one  else  with  his  knowledge  of  history.  "  No, 
no;  a  dictator  won  it,  and  only  a  dictator  can  recover  it. 
If  little  Mesnil  were  to  capture  it  for  us,  he  might  be 
Emperor  half  an  hour  later.  Believe  me,  Monseigneur, 
the  army  will  side  with  you  to  a  man.  As  for  Paris — 
well,  you  have  not  been  three  weeks  in  Paris  without 
learning  for  yourself  how  far  the  Parisians  will  go,  pro- 
vided they  get  the  chance." 

"And  I  maintain  exactly  the  contrary.  My  dear 
Brisson,  you  entirely  misapprehend  the  real  significance 
of  the  present  disquiet.  So  far  from  making  for  a  dicta- 
torship, France  is  steadily  drifting  away  even  from  such 
authority  as  a  republic  can  supply.  Socialism  is  the 
next  change  we  shall  have  to  look  forward  to,  not  em- 
pire. Believe  me.  I  am  a  profound  student  of  politics, 
and  always  have  been  since  my  father's  death.  In  1848 
I  was  in  the  thick  of  things;  I  saw  the  coup  d'etat  of  '52 
from  a  second-floor  balcony  in  the  Place  Vendome,  and 
nearly  got  my  nose  carried  off  by  a  stray  bullet.  Peo- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  71 

pie  were  indifferent  then,  and  your  Highness  will  add 
that  they  are  indifferent  now;  but  take  my  word  for  it, 
their  present  indifference  is  of  another  kind.  I  cannot 
tell  you  how  cr  why;  but  you  will  discover  the  fact 
quickly  for  yourself  should  you  be  fo — ,  silly  enough  to 
follow  this  great  goose  here.  He  knows  that  I  am  right. 
In  his  heart  of  hearts  he  knows  it,  only  he  dare  n't  own 
up.  The  army,  above  all,  is  honeycombed  with  socialistic 
treason." 

"I  deny  it,"  cried  Brisson  fiercely.  "You  have  no 
right  to  tell  such  an  infamous  lie." 

"Tut-tut,  you  are  not  loyal  to  the  Republic.  Why 
should  the  rest  be?  " 

"  I  don't  understand  you.  I  don't  understand  your 
long  harangue,  and  I  don't  want  to.  I  daresay  you  do 
not  understand  it  yourself.  But  I  know  this,  there  is  n't 
a  word  of  truth  in  it  from  beginning  to  end.  Not  a  sin- 
gle word.  What  you  say  about  socialism  and  anarchy 
proves  that  you  are  wrong.  A  minority  of  discontented 
failures  will  be  able  to  throw  the  country  into  disorder 
if  the  Republic  lasts  much  longer.  Why?  Simply  be- 
cause decent  people  are  for  a  dictator." 

"  You  talk  like  a  child.  You  cannot  argue;  and  it  is 
impossible  to  gather  from  yourwords  what  it  is  you  mean." 

"Bah,  I  have  had  enough  of  your  rudeness.  Mon- 
seigneur, "  turning  with  a  very  changed  demeanour  to 
Napoleon,  "you  only  need  show  yourself,  to  be  hailed  as 
saviour  of  society." 

"  Brisson,  you  do  his  Highness  no  service  to  say  such 
things." 

"  I  presume  his  Highness  desires  to  hear  the  truth." 

"If  it  were  the  truth." 

"It  is  the  truth,"  flashed  Brisson.  "You  know  it  as 
well  as  I  do.  You  have  some  purpose  of  your  own  to 
serve  by  this." 

"  You  are  childish. " 

"  You  are  dishonest." 

The  Count  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "After  all,  it  is 
for  the  Prince  to  decide." 

Napoleon  looked  immensely  wise  and  cleared  his 
throat. 


72  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  Then,  De  Morin,  you  think  that  I  ought  not  to  make 
an  attempt?  " 

"  I  say  it  with  great  regret, — no!  " 

"  Never?  " 

"  Not  at  present,  nor  until  and  unless  things  change 
very  much  from  their  condition  at  this  moment.  And 
that  will  be  a  long  time,  I  fear." 

"  And  what  do  you  propose  I  shall  do  meanwhile?  " 

"You  can  go  on  living  quietly  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin. 
Brisson  and  I  alone  have  your  identity:  be  'Walter  Sad- 
ler '  still  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  And  the  three  of  us 
will  employ  our  spare  time  watching  for  the  psychologi- 
cal moment." 

"  You  say  it  will  never  come?  " 

"It  might  not;  still  there  is  no  harm  watching." 

"One  cannot  go  on  indefinitely  living  upon  capital," 
Napoleon  murmured  with  some  significance. 

"You  need  have  no  fears  on  that  score,"  said  De 
Morin,  eagerly  seizing  what  he  took  to  be  the  other's 
meaning.  "  Not  the  least  in  the  world.  Your  party  will 
make  that  all  right.  I  am  positive  they  won't  object  to 
anything  in  reason.  Let  me  see,  there  is  no  one  at 
present  in  receipt  of  money.  No  one  needs  it.  Yes,  the 
time  is  most  propitious  for  a  pension.  I  daresay  I  could 
procure  you  thirty  thousand  francs  or  so.  Thirty  thou- 
sand francs  a  year,"  De  Morin  repeated,  coaxingly; 
"  twelve  hundred  pounds  a  year!  Surely  that  is  ample 
for  any  man.  Many  a  prince  in  Europe  gets  less.  Afri- 
can princes,  I  understand,  have  no  civil  list,  but  subsist 
on  voluntary  contributions." 

"Yes,"  conceded  Napoleon,  "I  should  be  content 
with  that." 

Brisson  stared  from  one  to  the  other  in  mute  aston- 
ishment. 

"You  wouldn't  consent  to  live  in  London,  I  sup- 
pose? "  hazarded  the  Count. 

"  I  will  never  again  put  a  foot  on  English  soil." 

"  I  see.  I  quite  understand.  Pray  forgive  my  ask- 
ing. But  I  was  bound  to  do  so;  we  shall  be  compelled 
to  tell  the  party  a  little  about  you;  hence  more  may  leak 
out  than  we  had  originally  intended.  Of  course  if  the 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  73 

authorities  get  wind  of  your  whereabouts,  you  will  be 
promptly  expelled.  Your  Highness  understands  that,  I 
suppose?  " 

"Of  course,  of  course,"  Napoleon  faintly  rejoined. 
He  certainly  did  not  bargain  on  having  to  leave  the  Rue 
de  Berlin. 

"Vienna,  Rome,  Florence,  Washington,  Berlin?" 
enumerated  De  Morin;  "none  of  these  names  tempt 
you?  They  tell  me  Tokio  has  become  very  gay  since  the 
war;  thirty  thousand  francs  would  go  a  long  way  in  Tokio." 

"I  do  not  want  to  leave  Paris,"  pleaded  the  Prince. 
"Besides,  how  can  I  watch  for  the  psychological  mo- 
ment unless  I  am  on  the  spot?  " 

"There  is  the  'Lord  Warden  '  at  Dover— ah,  I  for- 
got, you  won't  go  to  England.  Well,  I  daresay  it  is 
already  engaged.  I  have  it!  "  he  cried,  ending  up  with 
a  brilliant  idea;  "  what  do  you  say  to  Brussels?  It  is  in 
every  respect  exactly  the  same  as  Paris  without  being  so 
draughty." 

"  I  do  not  want  to  leave  Paris. " 

"  Paris  is  merely  a  prejudice,  my  dear  nephew.  You 
will  soon  get  to  like  Brussels  just  as  well.  Then  you 
have  the  advantage  of  being  near  Victor." 

"  I  do  not  want  to  leave  Paris,"  reiterated  his  High- 
ness with  a  monotony  that  was  truly  pathetic.  "I  do 
not  want  to  leave  Paris.  I  have  got  my  place  in  the 
Rue  de  Berlin;  I  have  furnished  it  and  made  it  pretty 
and  cosy,  and — and — and — why  should  I  leave  it  when  I 
am  beginning  to  be  so  happy?  " 

"We  can  move  your  furniture;  Hadamard  will  do 
that  for  you," — De  Morin  soothed  him. 

"But  it  is  not  only  my  furniture,"  Napoleon  returned, 
mindful  of  the  growing  horror  on  Brisson's  face.  "I 
do  n't  want  people  to  think  that  I  am  abandoning  my 
pretensions.  They  will  say  so,  if  I  go  to  Belgium." 

"You  would  n't  care  for  Geneva?  "  coaxed  De  Morin, 
making  a  last  attempt.  "In  Geneva  you  will  be  within 
twenty  minutes'  walk  of  France — ten  minutes  by  steam 
train.  You  have  there  a  fine  theatre  and  shops  and 
mountains — and  a  lake,  I  believe.  Make  it  Geneva,  and 
I  will  come  and  help  install  you." 


74  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  I  do  not  want  to  leave  Paris." 

"Well,  well,  we  must  see  what  we  can  do.  I  shall 
have  to  inform  the  '  Party  '  that  you  have  decided  to 
await  the  psychological  moment,  and  would  meanwhile 
like  an  allowance.  I  need  not  say  more  than  that, — save 
to  a  trusted  few, — though,  I  warn  you,  that  much  is  risky. 
The  '  Party  '  may  very  possibly  refuse  to  contribute  with- 
out first  seeing  you.  At  any  rate  we  can  but  try.  If  we 
fail,  we  fail." 

"Thank  you;  you  are  indeed  good  and  kind.  The 
allowance  will,  of  course,  be — " 

"Paid  quarterly?     Most  assuredly  it  will." 

"I  hardly  meant  that.  I  intended  to  ask,  rather, 
whether — whether  there  would — be  certain — in  fact, 
fixity  of  tenure,  to  use  a  term  borrowed  from  the  English 
law,"  and  at  the  same  time  smiling  with  much  frank, 
unaffected  sweetness.  A  .fresh  sight,  at  this  point,  of 
Brisson's  agony  cut  him  short. 

"But  are  you  quite  sure  it  would  not  be  wiser  to 
declare  myself  at  once,  and  make  a  bid  for  power?  " 

"  Quite  sure.  I  have  been  guarding  your  interests  now 
for  sixty-three  years.  You  are  my  nephew.  Rest  satis- 
fied that  I  would  not  deceive  you.  I  shall  watch — make 
your  mind  easy  on  that  score;  I  shall  watch,  without 
relaxing  my  vigilance  for  a  single  instant.  And  when 
the  moment  comes, — if  ever  it  does,  a  point  on  which  I 
am  not  over-confident, — you  shall  receive  immediate  word 
from  me.  I  should  be  only  too  glad  to  be  able  to  say, 
'  Proceed,  and  God  bless  you!  '  ' 

"I  know  it.  You  will  attend  to  this  —  this  little 
money  matter  as  quickly  as  possible.  I  have  plenty  to 
go  on  with ;  but,  naturally,  I  should  like  to  feel  as  secure 
as  I  could." 

"Without  an  instant's  delay;  trust  me.  I  will  meet 
the  party  to-morrow  night,  and  will  come  round  directly 
afterwards  to  the  Rue  de  Berlin.  Never  fear,  I  shall 
bring  good  news." 

"It  would  be  a  serious  thing  for  me,  were  they  to 
refuse,"  Napoleon  said  nervously. 

"  Do  not  be  afraid." 

"  I  am  not  exactly  afraid,  but — " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  75 

"Your  Imperial  Highness  cannot  be  in  earnest?" 
Brisson  shouted,  so  suddenly  that  the  Prince  nearly 
leapt  out  of  his  chair. 

"Colonel  Brisson,  I  do  not  understand  you,"  in  very 
faint  tones  indeed. 

"Do  you  really  mean  thus  to  sell  your  birthright  for 
a  paltry  annuity?  " 

"Brisson,  Brisson,  you  are  so  violent, "  interposed  De 
Morin.  We  must  proceed  with  caution.  You,  a  soldier, 
and  not  know  the  dangers  of  overhaste!  " 

"  Overhaste  indeed!  Monseigneur,  you  are  letting  a 
chance  slip  by  such  as  you  will  never  get  again.  De 
Morin  is  comfortable,  and  he  does  not  want  to  jeopardize 
what  he  has  got.  He  is  well  aware  that  he  would  not  be 
able  to  keep  his  fingers  out  of  any  conspiracy,  so  he  pre- 
fers that  there  should  not  be  any  conspiracy  at  all. 
All  right,  De  Morin;  you  need  n't  frown  at  me.  I  have 
only  said  what  is  the  truth." 

"I  am  satisfied  that  the  Count's  advice  is  absolutely 
disinterested." 

"Your  Highness  never  made  a  greater  mistake  in  your 
life.  De  Morin  thinks  of  no  one  but  himself." 

"  Brisson,  you  are  insolent." 

"And  you  are  selfish.  You  are  worse  than  selfish; 
you  are  untrue  to  your  trust.  Why  did  you  preserve  the 
secret,  if  you  only  meant  to  fail  it  at  the  eleventh  hour? 
You  are  prepared  to  let  this  poor  young  man  forego  the 
best  chance  he  is  ever  likely  to  get,  for  no  reason  except 
that  you  may  not  be  disturbed.  Do  not  take  any  part  in 
the  attempt,  if  you  are  frightened  to  lose  all  your  pretty 
things.  But,  for  heaven's  sake,  do  not  hinder  us.  No,  of 
course  you  are  not  capable  of  anything  so  unselfish," — 
this  last  with  deep  scorn, — "you  would  be  in  a  terror 
lest  we  might  succeed;  and  then  you  would  not  be  there 
to  divide  the  spoil." 

"Colonel,  I  beg!  "  cried  De  Morin,  reverting  to  his 
usual  remedy,  this  time,  however,  without  the  least 
effect. 

"You  may  beg  as  much  as  you  like,  you  old  dog-in- 
the-manger.  " 

"  Colonel!  " 


76  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  None  of  your  high  and  mighty  airs  with  me,  sir.  I 
adhere  to  every  word  I  have  said.  You  are  deceiving 
his  Highness,  simply  because  you  do  n't  want  to  sacrifice 
your  comforts.  Own  it!  Apart  from  that,  you  are  will- 
ing enough  to  confess  that  the  time  is  ripe." 

"  I  will  own  nothing  of  the  sort.  You  always  were  a 
violent  fellow;  and  I  am  truly  sorry  that  I  ever  took  you 
— or  your  mother — into  my  confidence.  This  is  your 
gratitude!  Really.  I  feel  tempted  to  call  you  a  serpent." 

"Call  me  a  serpent,  if  you  fancy  it  will  give  you  any 
pleasure,"  Brisson  shouted  fiercely. 

Napoleon  gazed  helplessly  from  one  combatant  to  the 
other.  "  What  am  I  to  do?  "  said  he.  "  I  am  absolutely 
powerless  in  your  hands;  it  will  be  a  terrible  thing  if  you 
begin  to  quarrel.  Please,  please  try  and  place  yourselves 
in  my  position.  With  the  strongest  will  in  the  world,  I 
can  do  nothing  at  this  moment,  save  suffer  you  two  to 
lead  me.  I  have  only  just  arrived  from  England.  I 
have  no  real  knowledge  of  the  actual  state  of  things  in 
this  country.  Consider,  too,  I  did  not  know  my  great 
position  half  an  hour  ago!  I  am  bound,  absolutely  bound 
to  rely  on  others, — that  is,  of  course,  for  the  present.  It 
will  be  different  by  and  by." 

De  Morin  answered  with  great  docility.  "  Brisson 
and  I  comprehend  this  perfectly.  Our  keen  desire  to 
give  you  the  best  advice  is  the  very  reason  why  we 
wrangle.  During  the  twenty-five  odd  years  we  have 
known  one  another,  I  do  not  remember  ever  having 
called  the  dear  fellow  a  serpent.  To-day  is  absolutely 
the  first  occasion.  Isn't  it  so,  dear  Brisson?  I  cannot 
help  feeling  very  strongly  in  this  matter,  my  view  is  so 
obviously  the  right  one." 

"Your  view  is  utterly  and  entirely  wrong, "  Brisson 
burst  out,  still  at  fever  heat.  "  I  do  not  call  it  a  view 
at  all,  seeing  that  you  do  not  even  believe  in  it  yourself. " 

"Oh,  I  think  he  does;  I  really  think  he  does." 

"Your  Highness,  he  does  not.  De  Morin  is  as  insin- 
cere as  he  is  selfish." 

"Gently,  gently,  my  dear  Colonel,"  the  Count  inter- 
posed affably,  his  eyes  closed  and  a  seraphic  smile  play- 
ing over  his  placid  countenance,  "  not  so  fast.  If  you 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  77 

will  only  wait,  you  will  see  that  I  have  a  compromise  to 
suggest.  It  is  quite  obvious  his  Highness  cannot  raise 
his  standard  to-night.  You  admit  that?  " 

"Well?"  sullenly. 

"Well,  let  me  meet  the  party  to-morrow  night,  as 
originally  arranged.  I  can  get  the  allowance  voted ;  and 
— listen,  you  old  muddlehead — I  will  gather  the  general 
view  on  the  situation,  and  report  to  his  Highness.  We 
might  meet  here,  we  three,  the  following  day,  say,  for 
lunch,  at  one.  With  the  views  of  the  party  to  guide  us 
we  might  then  come  to  a  definite  decision." 

"You  know  my  opinion  about  the  '  Party,'  "  Brisson 
retorted.  "No  good  ever  has  or  will  come  out  of  that 
wretched  collection  of  Jews  and  busybodies.  This  much 
is  quite  certain:  you  wont  even  get  the  allowance  unless 
his  Highness  appears  in  person." 

"I  have  no  objection,"  said  De  Morin  with  a  signifi- 
cance he  could  not  altogether  conceal.  Indeed,  so  far 
from  objecting,  he  evidently  regarded  the  idea  as  a 
capital  one.  He  commenced  to  grin  and  rub  his  hands 
cheerfully  together,  demonstrating  thereby  a  delight 
which  seemed  as  impossible  of  concealment  as  his  covert 
meaning. 

"  Not  the  least  objection  in  the  world,"  he  repeated. 
"Quite  the  contrary.  I  am  inclined  to  regard  it  as  an 
extremely  sage  piece  of  advice.  It  rids  me  of  an  unplea- 
sant duty.  The  party  contains  some  pretty  acute  mem- 
bers; if  I  don't  produce  our  dear  Prince,  a  thousand  to 
one  they  will  imagine  I  want  the  money  for  myself." 

"  I  suggest  further, "  the  Colonel  went  on,  "  that  Mon- 
seigneur  should  himself  ask  them  the  vital  question." 

"Better  and  better!  Brisson,  I  shall  rechristen  you 
Solomon." 

"If  their  reply  is  in  the  affirmative,  you,  De  Morin, 
will  offer  no  further  objection?  " 

"That  depends  on  the  amount  of  unanimity  dis- 
played." 

"  It  will  be  a  matter  of  voting. " 

"  I  am  prepared  to  consent  to  that." 

"And  you  are  also  prepared  to  abide  by  the  decision 
of  the  majority?  " 


78  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  Certainly." 

Brisson  turned  to  Napoleon.  "  Does  your  Highness 
approve?  " 

"Your  suggestions  seem  to  indicate  our  wisest 
course." 

"  It  is  good  of  Monseigneur  to  say  so." 

"Not  at  all.  De  Morin  accepts  them;  accordingly, 
I  do  too.  I  am  quite  sure  no  Prince  of  my — mv  house 
ever  had  wiser  counsellors." 

Both  bowed;  De  Morin  lowest,  no  doubt  to  hide  his 
emotion. 

"  The  worst  of  it  is,  when  the  time  comes  to  think  and 
act  for  myself,  I  shall  find  the  task  all  the  more  difficult. 
Uncle,  you  and  Colonel  Brisson  will  have  spoilt  me." 

"As  to  time  and  place?  "  the  latter  interrupted  with 
military  precision. 

"Oh,  the  usual  hour  and  the  usual  place."  replied 
De  Morin.  "I  will  send  out  summonses  to-night.  We 
can  call  for  his  Highness  on  our  way." 

"You  need  not  trouble  to  come  so  far  out  of  your 
road.  I  shall  be  in  barracks  all  the  afternoon;  I  can 
bring  Monseigneur." 

"  It  is  no  more  out  of  my  road  than  it  is  out  of  yours," 
the  Count  said  tartly.  "  I  shall  be  there  in  any  case — at  a 
quarter  before  seven,  if  your  Highness  will  be  kind  enough 
to  remember. " 

"  Do  as  you  please,"  said  Brisson;  and  that  settled  it. 

"And  now,"  cried  their  host,  "  let  us  put  business  to 
one  side."  The  others  were  no  longer  unwilling.  So 
the  three  spent  a  cheerful  evening,  doing  justice  to  the 
good  things  which  Marie  had  provided,  and  increasing 
generally  in  their  mutual  love  and  amity  until  the  clock 
warned  them  that  it  was  getting  near  De  Morin's  bedtime. 

Brisson  offered  to  accompany  Monseigneur;  but  the 
Count  had  a  word  to  say  in  private  to  that  gallant  war- 
rior. Napoleon  bade  them  both  a  warm  farewell,  and 
set  forth  alone. 

He  walked  upon  air,  burying  Walter  Sadler  as  he  went. 
No  wonder  Pimlico  had  stifled  him!  At  home,  the  first 
thing  he  did  was  to  consult  his  mirror.  He  had  never 
seen  Prince  Louis  Napoleon! 


Chapter  VI 


The  next  evening,  punctual  to  the  hour  appointed,  De 
Morin  and  Colonel  Brisson  appeared  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin, 
and  carried  Napoleon  off  to  meet  his  adherents. 

They  drove,  "because,"  as  the  Count  put  it  with  a 
grin,  "it  does  n't  do  for  our  worthy  friend  here  to  be  seen 
too  much  in  my  company.  He  is  above  suspicion,  lucky 
dog;  and  I  am  not."  To  which  pleasantry,  the  other, 
also  in  the  best  of  tempers,  made  reply,  "  All  in  good 
time,  De  Morin;  all  in  good  time.  A  few  months,  and 
not  a  subject  in  the  Empire  but  will  be  proud  to  show 
himself  with  you.  What  do  you  say  to  that?" 

Their  destination  proved  to  be  a  third-rate  hotel  of 
forbidding  aspect,  situated  in  the  Rue  Boissy  d'Anglas. 
Directly  the  carriage  came  to  a  standstill,  De  Morin 
jumped  nimbly  to  the  ground;  and,  leaving  the  Colonel 
to  pay,  led  the  Prince  through  a  dimly  lighted  hall  and 
up  a  narrow  flight  of  concrete  stairs.  They  ascended  to 
a  room  upon  the  topmost  floor.  "Your  Highness  will 
kindly  wait  here  a  moment,"  said  De  Morin.  Then  he 
disappeared  through  a  door  that  led  into  an  inner  cham- 
ber, whence  came  the  buzz  of  many  voices. 

A  moment  later,  the  Count's  piping  treble  rose  above 
the  rest.  "Gentlemen,"  it  said,  "the  Prince  is  here." 
And  with  no  further  introduction  than  that,  the  missing 
Bonaparte  made  his  debut  before  the  world. 

The  room,  a  large  one,  was  crowded.  No  vacant  space 
showed  anywhere,  save  the  narrow  lane  leading  from  the 
door  to  a  low  dais  at  the  further  end.  Yet  the  silence 
was  so  absolute,  one  might  easily  have  heard  the  ticking 
of  a  watch.  It  betokened  a  respect  which  Napoleon 
found  perfectly  entrancing.  But  it  also  increased  his 
nervousness.  Anxious  to  acquit  himself  like  a  man 
worthy  to  wear  the  purple,  fully  alive  to  the  value  of 

79 


So  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

first  impressions,  he,  nevertheless,  could  not  take  his 
eyes  from  off  the  ground.  His  first  few  steps  were 
literal  stumbles:  his  head  sank  between  his  shoulders. 

"Be  calm,  be  calm,"  whispered  Brisson.  The  strong 
voice  encouraged  him  to  an  effort;  and  the  effort  suc- 
ceeded. His  head  was  no  longer  suffered  to  droop. 
With  eyes  that  now  moved  slowly  over  all,  but  dare  stop 
on  none,  and  firm,  self-reliant  steps,  he  advanced  up  the 
centre  of  the  room.  At  the  foot  of  the  dais  De  Morin 
and  Brisson  drew  back.  Napoleon  mounted  alone  and 
turned  and  faced  his  following. 

All  eyes  were  turned  towards  him.  Every  visage  was 
more  or  less  expectant;  while  the  oppressive  silence  still 
continued.  What  made  things  worse,  the  lane  by  which 
he  had  reached  the  platform  had  silted  up;  the  room  was 
now  one  close  packed  throng  of  human  beings,  most  of 
whom  were  in  dress  clothes,  and  very  funereal. 

The  Prince  looked  across  the  breadth  and  down  along 
the  length  of  this  formidable  multitude,  hopeless  be- 
wilderment clearly  marked  upon  his  not  unexpressive 
face.  The  front  rank  was  close  enough  beneath  him  for 
him  to  have  touched  it,  had  he  so  desired.  De  Morin, 
in  front  of  all,  turned  his  face  up  and  whisperingly  im- 
plored his  master  to  say  something.  But  Napoleon,  so 
ready  of  speech  when  speech  was  not  wanted,  hadn't  a 
single  word. 

"Gentlemen,"  prompted  De  Morin, — "Gentlemen," 
said  the  obedient  Prince;  and  that  one  word  undid  the 
flood-gates.  The  danger  now  was,  not  that  the  latter 
said  nothing,  but  that  he  might  say  too  much.  De  Morin 
was  in  a  fever  until  the  exhortation  was  safely  over. 

"Gentlemen," — this  was  the  gist  of  it, — "you  have 
been  expecting  me  for  many  years.  At  last  I  am  come. 
I  must  crave  your  forgiveness  for  having  tarried  so  long. 
But  you  know  my  story,  and  therefore  also  know  that 
I  am  not  to  blame.  Gentlemen,  this  is  not  a  time  for 
words.  And  if  it  were,  I  could  hardly  find  them  to  ex- 
press my  gratitude  for  your  presence  here  to-night.  Let 
me  say  only  this:  with  God's  help  and  your  assistance  I 
will  re-establish  the  Empire."  De  Morin  shuddered. 
"Yes,  I  will  re-establish  the  Empire.  I  am  in  direct 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  Si 

descent  from  the  great  Napoleon.  I  pray  heaven  it 
may  be  mine  to  win  back  some  of  the  glory  which  he 
won  for  France." 

There  was  a  low  murmur  of  applause. 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  De  Morin,  "  the  Prince  desires 
that  I  shall  present  you  all  in  turn"  ;  and  in  a  lower  voice, 
meant  for  Napoleon's  ears  alone,  "Perhaps  your  High- 
ness will  descend  and  stand  by  me." 

The  proceedings  now  became  truly  regal.  Napoleon 
got  his  first  taste  of  the  troubles  of  royalty.  He  had  to 
make  no  less  than  four  hundred  consecutive  and  elabo- 
rately distinct  bows,  and  his  neck — as  may  well  be 
imagined — was  aching  before  he  had  reached  the  forty- 
fifth.  Not  that  the  ceremony  was  altogether  devoid  of 
amusement.  He  scanned  each  individual  as  he  approached, 
and  tried  in  this  way  to  discover  the  material  of  which 
his  party  was  composed.  Most  were  very  old  or  very 
young.  Those  that  were  middle-aged  were  Jews.  So 
Bonaparte  congratulated  himself  that  the  sentiment, 
enthusiasm,  and  moneyed  brains  of  France  were  ranged 
under  his  banner.  His  own  demeanour  throughout  the 
trying  ordeal  showed  sensible  improvement.  He  was 
warming  to  his  part;  bowing — yea,  even  to  the  four  hun- 
dredth bow — with  great  natural  dignity  and  entire  absence 
of  all  self-consciousness. 

De  Morin  did  the  introducing.  His  memory  appeared 
to  be  absolutely  marvellous.  He  straightway  named 
each  man  as  each  presented  himself,  and  sometimes 
threw  in  a  few  biographical  particulars  besides.  Every- 
thing was  done  with  the  least  possible  amount  of  noise; 
"for,"  he  explained,  "the  landlord  sleeps  just  below; 
and  though  he  is  a  stanch  Imperialist,  he  likes  quiet." 

This  somewhat  late  levee  at  an  end,  the  inevitable 
De  Morin  made  a  further  statement.  "The  meeting  is 
over.  His  Highness  desires  that  the  Committee  will 
remain." 

The  lane  at  once  reopened  as  if  by  magic.  Napoleon 
passed  down  it  into  the  outer  room.  The  door  was 
closed  behind  him,  and  he  was  alone.  For  a  moment  he 
expected  to  hear  a  burst  of  uproarious  laughter.  Bris- 
son  and  De  Morin,  he  thought,  were  two  among  the 


82  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

leading  farceurs  in  Paris;  and  this  meeting  was  a  practi- 
cal joke — perhaps  the  subject  of  some  well-advertised 
wager.  But  no — not  a  sound  except  the  soft  tread  of 
departing  footsteps. 

Presently  the  door  was  again  flung  open,  and  Brisson 
begged  that  his  Highness  would  return.  A  long  wooden 
table  had  been  set  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  Round 
this  were  seated  some  thirty  or  so  of  those  who  had 
taken  part  in  the  late  proceedings.  The  Count  was  in 
an  arm-chair  at  one  end,  while  at  the  other,  and  next  to 
Brisson's  chair,  stood  an  empty  seat  ready  for  Napoleon. 
He  sank  into  it,  and  looked  across  at  De  Morin.  The 
other  rapped  thrice  with  his  knuckles  upon  the  table. 

"If  you  please,  gentlemen,  to  business.  No  one 
may  speak  for  more  than  five  minutes  at  a  stretch,  or 
twice  within  the  same  half-hour." 

A  perfumed  youth,  who  was  hardly  able  to  speak  for 
his  airs  and  graces,  rose  and  bowed  towards  Napoleon. 

"I  propose,"  he  minced,  "that  the  fund  originally 
raised  for  his  cousin,  the  lamented  Prince  Louis,  shall 
be  resettled  on  his  Highness." 

An  intelligent-looking  little  Jew  here  sprang  to  his 
feet.  "  His  Highness  is  only  to  enjoy  an  inalienable 
life  interest,"  he  cried.  "The  capit — " 

"Thank  you,"  interposed  the  Prince  haughtily,  "I 
do  not  desire  to  hear  more.  I  have  no  intention  of 
touching  the  capital.  It  irks  me  to  receive  pecuniary 
assistance  at  all;  but  you  will  understand  I  cannot  very 
well  work  for  my  living." 

The  little  Hebrew  gentleman  looked  dubiously  at 
De  Morin.  Monsieur  Felix  Hadamard  was  a  member  of 
the  great  financial  house  of  that  name:  his  words  de- 
servedly carried  respect. 

"The  fund,"  he  began  anew,  "  was  vested  in  the  hands 
of  three  trustees  originally.  The  Count  de  Morin,  here, 
was  one:  the  other  two  are  dead." 

"I  have  no  objection  to  two  new  ones  being 
elected." 

"I  might  remark,  my  own  position  as  a  member  of 
the  great  house  of  Hadamard  peculiarly  fits  me  for  a 
position  of  trust." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  83 

"The  question  is  that  Monsieur  Felix  Hadamard  be 
joined  to  the  Count  de  Morin  as  trustee  of  the  Imperialist 
fund,"  cried  the  latter.  "Those  who  approve  the  mo- 
tion say  '  Aye.'  " 

"Aye,"  bellowed  Hadamard,  meaning  to  swell  a 
triumphant  chorus:  no  one  else  uttered  a  sound. 

"The  motion  is  carried  by  acclamation.  Felix,  one 
moment. "  The  two  men  put  their  heads  together  across 
the  table,  and  spent  a  few  minutes  in  earnest  whispering. 
"The  trustees  are  of  opinion,"  De  Morin  exclaimed  at 
last,  "  that  no  further  appointment  is  needed.  The  com- 
mittee will  now  proceed  to  other  business." 

Monsieur  Hadamard  promptly  rose  to  his  feet.  "As 
to  residence,"  said  he.  "  I  should  suggest  some  snug 
little  nest  in  the  Quartier  St.  Germain." 

"He  has  a  flat  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin,"  murmured 
De  Morin." 

"What's  it  like?"  asked  Hadamard  with  business 
promptitude. 

"So  so.  It  is  not  furnished  quite  to  my  taste;  still, 
it  does." 

"  The  china,  and  glass,  and  all  that?  " 

"That  would  be  all  right.  His  Highness  has  only 
been  in  Paris  a  month." 

"  No  cutlery?  " 

"I  should  imagine  not." 

"I  am  sorry.  I  have  a  bankrupt  stock  of  very  good 
dinner  knives  and  forks,  your  Highness, " — calling  across 
the  table, — "you  couldn't  do  with  some  cutlery?" 

"I  have  no  intention  of  leaving  the  Rue  de  Berlin," 
was  Napoleon's  sole  answer,  "except  to  exchange  it  for 
the  Elysee." 

"The  Committee  applauds  so  wise  a  resolution. 
There  is  nothing  more,  Hadamard,  is  there?  We  can 
take  an  informal  inventory  in  the  morning.  Your  High- 
ness, your  trustees  will  do  themselves  the  honour  of  call- 
ing to-morrow  forenoon  to  discuss  money  matters.  And 
that  concludes  our  business." 

"  Stop,"  cried  Brisson,  leaping  to  his  feet;  "his  High- 
ness still  has  something  very  important  to  say." 

"I  thank  you,  Colonel,"  assented  Napoleon,  faintly. 


84  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"Gentlemen,  I  thank  you  for  your  presence  and  your 
generosity.  But — but — gentlemen,  it  remains  for  us  to 
consider  how  I  shall  win  back  my  throne." 

The  surprise,  already  on  every  face,  now  faded  into 
blank  consternation.  Hadamard  voiced  the  general  feel- 
ing. "The  difficulties  of  such  a  task,"  said  he,  looking 
round  for  approval,  "are  very  great.  The  risks  are 
enormous.  Will  not  his  Highness  await  in  peace  the 
psychological  movement?  The  iron  is  not  red-hot." 

"Be  firm;  be  firm  for  heaven's  sake,"  in  undertones 
from  Brisson. 

"The  iron  is  red-hot." 

Monsieur  Hadamard  indulged  in  a  pitying  smile,  which 
effected  far  more  than  the  soldier's  whispered  monitions. 

"  I  tell  you,  Monsieur  Hadamard, "  shouted  Bonaparte 
in  a  blaze,  "  the  iron  is  red-hot." 

"No,  no,"  purred  De  Morin,  "the  peril  to  the  Re- 
public is  from  anarchy  and  socialism;  the  one-man  coup 
d'etat  is  over.  The  days  of  Authority — Imperial  or  Re- 
publican— are  ended.  I  see  the  handwriting  upon  the 
wall!  "  and  he  waved  one  hand  towards  it,  while  steady- 
ing himself  with  the  other  on  Hadamard's  head.  "  Felix, 
surely  you  see  it  too?" 

"Yes,"  said  Felix,  "I  see  it." 

"We  both  see  it — the  old  familiar  line,  *  Mene,  Mene  ' 
— Authority  shall  pass  away  from  France  for  evermore. 
Our  country  returns  to  the  mountain.  Then  comes 
chaos;  then  the  fate  of  Poland.  Englishman  and  Span- 
iard, Prussian,  Swiss,  and  Italian,  these  will  divide  us. 
Their  boundaries  will  be  planted  in  our  heart.  Moulins — 
famous  for  its  gingerbread — will  be  the  five-cornered 
frontier;  while  the  isles,  the  beauteous  isles  of  our  west- 
ern coasts,  will  probably  go  to  the  United  States." 

"  How  can  your  Highness  suffer  him  to  talk  such  fear- 
ful nonsense?"  whispered  Brisson. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  Count.  I  desire  to  hear  what 
my  other  supporters  have  to  say." 

"Monsieur  Hadamard,"  said  De  Morin  promptly, 
"you  will  kindly  favour  the  meeting." 

"With  great  pleasure      My  advice  is — " 

"  I  think  I  know  all  Monsieur  Hadamard  has  to  say." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  85 

"I  want  particularly  to  add  a  word  about  the 
psycho — " 

"  I  shall  take  it  as  a  great  mark  of  disrespect  unless 
you  instantly  desist.  As  it  is,  I  do  not  consider  your 
demeanour  at  all  becoming." 

"  Oh,  I  am  as  God  made  me,"  said  Hadamard  care- 
lessly. 

"Colonel  Brisson,  please,  your  view?  " 

"  It  lies  in  a  sentence.  Had  your  Highness  appeared 
in  the  spring,  your  chances  would  have  been  better. 
But — "  But  in  the  spring  his  Highness's  days  had  gone 
for  the  most  part  in  Appeal  Court  I,  that  whirlpool  which 
seems  to  catch  all  who  are  desolate. 

"Unfortunately,"  Brisson  continued,  "the  chance 
was  lost.  But  if  the  opportunity  was  more  favourable 
six  months  ago  than  it  is  now,  it  is  more  favourable  now 
than  it  will  be  six  months  hence.  The  more  quiet  peo- 
ple get,  the  more  quiet  they  want.  Seize  the  hour,  Mon- 
seigneur,  for  whatever  it  is  worth.  I  can  answer  for  the 
army.  The  whole  Paris  garrison  is  at  your  disposal — " 

"I  don't  think  much  of  their  boots  or  bayonets," 
murmured  Hadamard.  "Both  are  exceedingly  soft.  I 
am  sure  I  have  good  reason  to  know." 

"You  little  dev — "  began  the  irate  Colonel. 

"Peace,"  interposed  De  Morin.  "Might  we  not 
hear  Monseigneur's  own  views?  True,  he  has  not  had 
much  opportunity  of  judging,  but  they  are  sure  to  be 
intelligent." 

"I  side  with  Colonel  Brisson." 

"  The  result  of  insufficient  data, "  hazarded  the  Count. 

"I  have  kept  my  eyes  and  ears  open,  my  month  in 
Paris.  Everywhere  I  find  signs  that  the  moment  is  ripe. 
My  own  strange  coming,  ignorant  of  my  name,  purpose- 
less, led  by  some  irresistible  craving  for  action,  what 
can  it  be  but  my  Destiny  pointing  the  road  to  Empire?" 

Brisson  touched  his  elbow:  "You  are  making  a  visi- 
ble impression." 

This  encouragement,  combined  with  his  own  elo- 
quence, had  the  desired  effect.  Napoleon  lashed  him- 
self into  a  condition  of  ecstatic  frenzy. 

"You  shall  not  hold  me  back — rather   a  thousand 


86  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

times  the  starvation  which  sent  me  here.  But  your  pres- 
ence testifies  to  a  loyalty  and  courage  which  will  stop 
nowhere  short  of  the  great  reward.  Follow  me,  my 
friends,  and  success  is  ours.  Quickly  too.  The  flood- 
tide  is  ebbing  fast.  Let  us  put  off  at  once  before  it  is 
too  late!  " 

"Now,"  sighed  De  Morin  cheerfully,  "we  will  pro- 
ceed to  vote.  Those  in  favour  of  awaiting  the  psycho- 
logical moment  say  'Aye  ' — the  ayes  have  it.  That  fin- 
ishes our  business.  The  next  meeting  will  be  next  June. " 

Napoleon  sprang  to  his  feet.  "What  if  I  say  that  I 
refuse  to  be  bound  by  the  committee's  decision?  I  may 
or  may  not  make  the  attempt;  it  will  be  for  me  to 
choose.  But  I  give  the  Committee  their  choice.  Those 
that  are  willing  to  follow  me  at  whatever  cost,  let  them 
stay.  The  rest  may  depart  as  quickly  as  they  like." 

"But  is  Monseigneur  really  in  a  position  to  behave 
so?"  suggested  De  Morin. 

"I  alone  shall  suffer  if  I  act  rashly.  Come,  gentle- 
men; I  give  you  all  your  choice." 

About  twenty-five  out  of  the  thirty  rose  at  once  and 
made  for  the  door.  Their  manner  of  reaching  it  varied. 
Some  ran,  perspiring  freely,  as  though  they  had  been  in 
deadly  peril,  and  had  barely  escaped  by  the  skin  of  their 
teeth.  Hadamard  bowed  amiably  to  the  Prince,  and 
sauntered  out  with  extreme  deliberation.  Others  sidled 
up  to  the  exit,  as  though  they  merely  meant  to  get  clean 
handkerchiefs  from  their  overcoats.  These,  like  soap- 
bubbles,  began  very  slowly,  to  end  abruptly.  In  fine, 
whatever  the  manner  of  their  departure,  all  departed. 
Even  the  five  who  remained  with  our  three  friends  at  the 
table — they  were  young  men  who  at  the  outset  looked 
very  bold  and  devoted — even  these,  as  their  isolation 
became  more  and  more  marked,  thought  better  of  it. 
They,  too,  suddenly  remembered  that  they  wanted  clean 
handkerchiefs,  so  sauntered  towards  their  overcoats  and 
presently  were  gone. 

"Brisson,"  said  De  Morin,  when  the  three  of  them 
were  quite  alone,  and  two  of  them  were  very  glum  and 
silent,  "  I  understand  we  dine  with  you  to-night.  Come, 
friend;  come,  dear  nephew;  let  us  away." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  87 

And  in  this  manner  the  Count  throttled  the  subject. 
A  formal  decision  had  been  come  to,  and  he  did  not  see 
why  he  should  go  on  indefinitely  discussing  it  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  far  more  interesting  topics.  Napoleon  indeed 
made  several  attempts;  Colonel  Brisson  made  many 
more;  but  the  benevolent  old  gentleman  burked  each 
and  all  and  sundry  with  resolute  impartiality.  And  he 
could  do  this  all  the  more  easily,  inasmuch  as  he  walked 
between  his  two  companions,  his  arms  intertwined  lov- 
ingly in  theirs.  He  was  quite  affable — nay,  his  playful 
ways  rivalled  the  gaiety  of  some  light-hearted,  ingenu- 
ous child.  He  sung,  he  sparkled,  he  railed  at  them  for 
their  moody  abstraction;  he  chid  their  silence,  and  tried 
by  his  own  generous  flow  of  spirits  to  galvanize  them 
into  life.  He  could  afford  it.  He  was  the  victor;  and 
he  had  ever  been  a  generous  rival. 

Madame  Brisson's  urbanity,  too,  knew  no  bounds. 
She  accorded  the  Prince  a  most  respectful  welcome.  She 
gratefully  recalled  the  unworthy  part  her  son  and  she 
had  played  in  restoring  him  to  his  own.  She  hung  upon 
his  words,  which,  at  the  outset,  were  neither  very  wise 
nor  very  plentiful.  She  would  not  let  him  sit  under  an 
open  window,  reminding  him  of  the  value  of  his  life, 
and  by  half  a  hundred  kindred  devices  showed  him  the 
respect  and  loyal  devotion  she  felt  towards  his  person. 

She  was  an  old  lady,  not  accustomed  to  unbend, 
haughty,  and  with  a  temperament  more  often  disdainful 
than  otherwise.  To-night,  however,  she  displayed  all 
the  simple,  unaffected  graciousness  of  some  young  and 
charming  woman,  who  has  a  due  sense  of  the  great  oc- 
casion when  it  comes,  but  also  natural  spirits  that  are 
invincible. 

De  Morin  came  in  for  a  share  of  her  affability.  But 
not  so  her  son.  Indeed,  so  marked  was  her  indifference 
to  his  presence,  that  the  Prince  felt  certain  that  the 
quarrel,  caused  by  his  own  first  appearance,  had  con- 
tinued and  widened  as  it  went.  De  Morin,  with  his 
keener  eyes,  knew  better. 

Madame,  it  may  further  be  remarked,  did  not  want 
to  hear  a  word  about  their  wretched  business.  She 
knew  that  it  had  commenced  at  seven  and  lasted  till  past 


88  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

nine,  and  she  commiserated  them;  but  she  showed  no 
sort  of  curiosity  as  to  the  result.  When  De  Morin  evinced 
some  little  desire  to  recount  his  victory,  she  implored 
him  not  to  trouble.  "Both  of  you,  I  feel  quite  certain, 
must  be  heartily  sick  of  the  whole  matter.  Please,  no 
more  of  it,  for  my  sake."  And  later,  the  former  having 
remarked  that  they  had  decided  on  a  policy  of  masterly 
inactivity,  she  glanced  across  at  Napoleon  with  wondrous 
tenderness,  saying  in  a  low  voice  that  trembled  under  its 
heavy  load  of  pity,  "I  trust  Monseigneur  is  not  too  dis- 
appointed." 

One  could  not  but  be  touched  by  such  womanly  sym- 
pathy. Napoleon  was,  and  speedily  forgot  whatever 
chagrin  the  committee  had  caused  him.  Towards  the 
end  of  supper,  he  became  quite  cheerful;  the  probabili- 
ties being  that  he  did  n't  notice  the  malicious  look  that 
could  not  keep  out  of  Madame's  eyes  on  one  or  two  oc- 
casions. 

Such  a  look  accompanied  the  following  simple  ques- 
tion :  "I  trust  your  Highness's  present  flat  is  a  comfort- 
able one? " 

"Very,  I  thank  you." 

"I  was  sorry,"  continued  Madame,  "not  to  get  mine 
let,  I  am  so  anxious  to  leave  Paris.  But  of  course  it 
would  not  have  been  suitable  for  you." 

"This  is  a  very  good  flat,"  remarked  Napoleon,  look- 
ing critically  round  the  room. 

"Yes,  it  is  fairly  comfortable;  but  obviously  it  would 
not  suit  any  one  who  wanted  to  entertain.  Tell  me, 
Monseigneur,  does  your  apartment  really  repay  the 
trouble  you  say  you  have  expended  over  it?  Do  you  not 
sometimes  despair  of  ever  getting  rid  of  that  bachelor 
flavour  all  bachelors'  flats  seem  to  acquire?  I  am  vain 
enough  to  think  that  a  woman's  taste  and  judgment  are 
indispensable  in  these  matters.  You  may  command 
my  services  at  any  time:  I  will  give  an  afternoon  with 
the  greatest  pleasure.  And,"  archly,  "as  I  am  such  a 
very  old  woman,  no  one  can  say  a  word." 

At  this  point,  Madame's  son,  who  had  been  alter- 
nately frowning  and  yawning  all  through  the  entertain- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  89 

ment,  sprung  to  his  feet  and  declared  that  he  must  be 
off  to  barracks. 

"Very  well,  Jean,"  said  his  mother  coldly;  "good- 
night." 

De  Morin  was  stretched  full  length  upon  a  sofa. 
"Good-night,  Brisson,"  he  cried;  "excuse  my  moving, 
I  am  so  tired." 

Napoleon  consulted  his  watch.  "It  is  late.  One 
moment,  Colonel;  I  will  accompany  you. " 

De  Morin  hurried  to  his  feet;  also  Madame. 

"We  shall  both  be  very  disappointed  if  you  leave  us 
at  this  early  hour,"  cried  the  latter.  "Jean  has  to  get 
back  to  perform  his  duties,  otherwise  he  never  departs 
before  eleven." 

"Indeed,  yes,  my  dear  nephew;  we  can't  think  of 
letting  you  off  so  soon.  We  must  n't  make  that  great 
mutton-head,  Brisson,  believe  that  his  presence  is  neces- 
sary to  the  vitality  of  the  party.  Surely  we  three  can 
manage  a  cosy  hour  or  so  without  help  from  him.  All 
right,  Colonel,  you  need  not  wait.  His  Highness  intends 
to  remain." 

His  Highness  did  remain ;  and,  with  Brisson's  restrain- 
ing presence  gone,  the  conversation  became  very  general 
and  very  genial.  Madame's  offer  to  come  and  give  a 
finishing-touch  to  his  apartment  was  repeated  and  gladly 
accepted.  And,  at  parting,  she  and  De  Morin,  on  their 
side,  accepted  an  invitation  for  that  day  fortnight — "an 
old  people's  dinner-party,"  she  said,  and  De  Morin 
laughed. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can't  make  the  dinner  at  the  Elysee," 
Walter  responded  with  considerable  hesitation,  where- 
upon Madame  fell  back  into  her  former  voice  of  tender, 
unobtrusive  sympathy:  "Never  mind,"  said  she;  "that 
will  come  in  time";  and  De  Morin  laughed  again. 

Uncle  and  nephew  parted  company  at  the  corner  of 
the  Rue  Fabert.  "  Hadamard  and  I  will  be  round  at 
your  place  about  eleven,"  said  the  former.  "  The  com- 
mittee were  even  more  generous  than  I  expected.  Your 
income  is  close  on  thirty-eight  thousand  francs  a  year — 
that 's  not  bad  in  these  days,  is  it?  Good-night,  dear 


90  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

boy.  Pleasant  dreams;  and,  above  all,  be  discreet," 
Then,  when  they  had  actually  separated,  and  there  were 
about  fifteen  yards  between  them,  "  Louis,  Louis,"  cried 
De  Morin,  "here  a  moment."  Napoleon  returned. 
"Don't  be  down-hearted,  dear  child.  The  committee 
may,  after  all,  be  more  favourably  disposed  to  action  next 
year.  The  wisest  are  fallible:  I  may  have  erred  for 
once.  At  any  rate  we  can  but  hope.  Good-night, 
again.  Be  discreet." 

Arrived  at  his  own  door,  Napoleon  entered  without 
recourse  to  the  bell  and  passed  straight  through  into  the 
library. 

Brisson  broke  upon  his  astonished  vision — the  whole 
of  Brisson,  and  all  at  the  same  time;  Brisson  reclining 
in  an  arm-chair,  his  eyes  shut,  and  apparently  asleep. 

"Colonel  Brisson!  " 

"Pardon,  Monseigneur,"  replied  that  warrior,  awak- 
ing at  once,  and  composedly  rising  to  his  feet.  "  My 
thoughts  were  so  far  away,  I  did  not  hear  you  enter." 

"  Do  not  apologize.      Have  you  been  waiting  long?  " 

"I  came  straight  here  from  my  mother's.  The  ser- 
vant promised  to  give  you  word  of  my  presence." 

"Ah,  they  have  all  gone  to  bed.  I  am  sorry  to  be  so 
late.  Had  I  but  known.  You  see,  De  Morin  is  such  an 
amusing  fellow.  And  Madame,  too,  what  a  charming 
woman  she  is!  It  is  a  house  where  one  easily  loses  sight 
of  time." 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  have  spent  a  pleasant  evening." 
Napoleon  glanced  sharply  at  the  Colonel's  face.  It  was 
absolutely  motionless. 

"With  your  Highness's  permission,  I  will  resume  my 
seat." 

The  Prince  followed  Brisson's  example,  not  best 
pleased  at  the  prospect  indicated  by  such  a  proceeding. 
He  could  easily  guess  the  meaning  of  this  visit.  Well, 
if  this  blunt  ungainly  Colonel  would  come  and  stir  up 
the  "low  beginnings  of  content,"  at  least  he  should  do 
so  without  delay.  Napoleon  wanted  to  have  the  busi- 
ness settled  and  dismissed  from  his  mind  for — for  one 
year.  The  first  disappointment  had  been  bitter  enough, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  91 

Heaven  knew.  In  the  earliest  blush  of  his  unlooked-for 
promotion,  he  had  panted  to  mount  the  throne  forth- 
with. But  the  Committee  and  De  Morin  had  said  other- 
wise. So  be  it!  The  latter's  experience  was  not  to  be 
opposed  lightly.  It  could  not  be  opposed  at  all  without 
assistance  from  the  former.  Accordingly,  at  this  mo- 
ment, he  was  in  a  state  of  tepid  acquiescence:  quite 
determined  to  make  a  bid  for  fortune — next  year,  when 
the  time  and  he  himself  were  riper;  and  meanwhile  in- 
tending to  pass  the  interval  as  comfortably  as  fifteen 
hundred  a  year  would  permit. 

"What  does  your  Highness  intend  to  do?"  began 
Brisson  abruptly. 

"  Really — I — I  have  no  choice.  I  am  bound  to  abide 
by  the  decision  of  the  Committee." 

"Then  you  finally  abandon  all  claim  to  the  throne." 
"Nothing  of   the    kind,  Colonel    Brisson;    you    know 
better  than  that.     I  do  n't  renounce  one  iota  of  my  pre- 
tensions." 

"Does  Monseigneur  really  think,  after  what  he  has 
seen  to-night,  that  the  committee  will  ever  counsel 
action,  or,  indeed,  do  anything  except  talk?" 

"A  year  may  effect  a  change." 

"A  hundred  years  would  not." 

"  De  Morin  says  so." 

"  De  Morin  says  anything." 

"You  seem  to  forget  my  inexperience." 

"  If  I  forgot  it,  I  should  not  be  here.  I  come  to 
proffer  my  advice  simply  because  I  know  your  Highness's 
position." 

"Then,  cannot  you  see  how  much  I,  personally,  shall 
gain  from  a  year's  delay?  " 

"  I  do  not  follow  you." 

"  It  is  simple  enough.  Twelve  months  hence  I  shall 
be  able  to  judge  for  myself.  More  than  that,  I  shall 
have  made  friends  outside  the  Party;  I  shall  be  no  longer 
dependent  on  these  Hadamards.  I  can  even  dispense 
with  De  Morin's  services,  if  I  choose." 

"  Well,  cannot  you  do  all  this  to-morrow?  " 

"The  question  is  absurd.  Do  you  seriously  propose 
that  I  should  descend  into  the  streets,  and  set  up  my 


93  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

banner  single-handed?  '  Come,  good  people!  here  I  am, 
the  fourth  Napoleon,— the  missing  Bonaparte !  For  proof 
of  the  same,  call  on  the  Count  de  Morin,  Rue  Fabert,  he 
will  supply  documentary  evidence  and  answer  all  ques- 
tions. I  propose  to  upset  the  President.  That,  to  begin 
with.  Afterwards,  with  your  help,  I  shall  restore  the 
Empire.  Come,  then,  in  your  thousands,' — that's  the 
sort  of  thing,  I  suppose,"  and  Napoleon  laughed  at  his 
own  humour. 

"I  have  said  nothing  that  deserves  such  ridicule," 
returned  Brisson  frigidly. 

"My  dear  Colonel,  I  give  you  up.  I  am  not  to  rely 
on  De  Morin,  Hadamard,  and  Company;  I  am  not  to 
rely  on  myself — " 

"  I  never  said  so." 

"Well,  on  myself  alone, — it  is  the  same  thing.  Per- 
haps, then,  you  will  tell  me,  who  am  I  to  rely  on?  " 

"  Rely  on  yourself  and  me." 

"You  are  very  kind,  but,  beyond  the  fact  that  you 
are  a  soldier  and  a  friend  of  De  Morin's,  I  know  you  no 
better  than  I  do  Hadamard." 

"  Do  you  doubt  my  honour?  " 

"  No,  no,  no.  But  how  can  I  believe  in  your  sagacity 
and  energy  any  more  than  I  can  in  theirs?  It  's  all  my 
wretched  inexperience.  Surely  you  see,  from  this  very 
incident  itself,  of  what  immense  value  a  year's  watching 
and  waiting  would  be  to  me?  " 

"Of  what  use  the  experience  without  the  oppor- 
tunity? " 

"  Oh,  the  opportunity  will  remain." 

"  Do  not  be  too  sure. " 

"We  mustn't  be  frightened  by  a  bugbear  like  that. 
Imagine  it  to  be  June  of  next  year.  The  Committee 
have  given  me  a  second  negative.  You  come  to  me,  just 
as  you  have  done  to-night,  with  exactly  the  same  pro- 
posal. Consider  how  far  more  capable  I  shall  be  of 
giving  a  sagacious  answer.  By  that  time  I  shall  know 
your  character  and  the  actual  power  that  you  wield. 

"  By  next  year  whatever  power  I  have  will  all  be  gone. 
You  do  not  suppose  that  the  army  will  turn  against  their 
King?  " 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  93 

" Their  King?" 

"Yes,  the  Due  d'Orle"ans.  If  you  do  not  seize  the 
present  opportunity,  he  will.  As  it  is,  he  has  the  start  of 
us." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you." 

"Really—" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  I  should  have  said  I  could 
hardly  credit  it." 

"Then,  do  you  imagine  that  he  has  been  idle  all  this 
time?  " 

"  Do  you  actually  know  of  any  Orleanist  intrigues?  " 

"I  know  of  several.  The  army  naturally  inclines  to 
the  Empire,  but  it  prefers  the  Monarchy  to  the  Republic. 
The  Duke  may  easily  be  upon  the  throne  by  the  end  of 
the  year." 

"This  is  De  Morin's  fault,"  exclaimed  Napoleon 
petulantly;  "  De  Morin's  and  my  mother's.  Poor  thing, 
no  doubt  she  did  it  for  the  best;  but  that  fool's  clause 
of  hers  about  having  me  kept  in  ignorance  has  ruined 
our  cause.  The  Count  had  no  business  to  obey  her. 
Who  gave  these  relatives  the  right  to  play  such  tricks 
with  the  welfare  of  my  family?  It  is  scandalous!  " 

"  No  harm  has  been  done,  if  only  you  will  follow  my 
advice." 

"  I  do  not  even  know  what  it  is." 

"Will  you  follow  it?  "  cried  Brisson,  his  eyes  gleam- 
ing. 

"  How  foolish  you  are.  I  tell  you  again,  I  do  n't 
even  know  what  it  is." 

"Listen,"  cried  Brisson  in  a  voice  which  struck  Na- 
poleon as  a  trifle  peremptory;  "here  is  my  project:  I 
will  introduce  you  to  the  leading  officers  of  the  Paris  gar- 
rison. The  safe  ones  first,  and  afterwards  to  those  who 
are  a  bit  doubtful." 

"Well?" 

"The  lot  of  us  will  agree  upon  a  night,  say  a  week 
hence,  for  them  to  bring  their  men  to  my  barracks.  It 
is  a  perfect  rendezvous,  and  one  from  which  we  can  get 
to  work  at  once." 

"The  thing  sounds  delightfully  simple,"  said  Na- 
poleon with  a  half-sneer. 


94  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"It  will  succeed  for  that  very  reason." 

"  And  if  it  does  not?  " 

"  We  must  be  prepared  to  take  the  consequences." 

"What  will  they  be?" 

"The  question  is  hardly  worth  asking.  However, 
you  may  make  your  mind  easy  on  one  point, — they  will 
be  worst  for  us." 

"Us?" 

"Yes,  the  other  officers  and  myself." 

"I  do  not  see  that;  I  shall  lose  all  chance  of  the 
throne." 

"  Not  more  effectually  than  if  you  trust  to  the  Com- 
mittee." 

"  I  repeat,  I  should  lose  all  chance." 

"You  do  not  seem  to  remember  Strasbourg  and  Bou- 
logne." 

"And  you  forget  Ham." 

"  Not  at  all.      Did  he  not  escape?  " 

"My  Ham  will  be  far  more  secure." 

"The  government  can  only  expel  you.  We,  on  the 
other  hand,  should  have  to  pay  a  much  heavier  price  for 
failure." 

"  I  do  not  see  it." 

"We  should  all  be  shot." 

"  And  you  say  that  you  would  have  many  comrades?  " 

"Very  many." 

"Then  the  Republic  could  not  afford  such  a  whole- 
sale slaughter." 

"  It  will  have  no  choice,  at  least  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned." 

He  said  this  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  but  at  the 
same  time  with  an  earnestness  there  was  no  mistaking. 
Napoleon  had  no  reply. 

"Of  course,"  continued  the  last  speaker,  "if  you 
will  only  accept  my  proposals,  I  can  proceed  to  details. 
But  you  understand  it  is  not  fair  to  mention  names  other- 
wise." 

"  Quite  so.  And  suppose  De  Morin  comes  to  hear 
of  this,  what  then?  " 

"You  may  well  ask,"  replied  Brisson  gravely.  "  De 
Morin  has  ways  and  dodges  peculiar  to  himself.  He 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  95 

could  easily  disclose  our  whole  plot  without  pretending 
to  stir  a  finger.  He  must  not  know." 

"  How  are  we  to  prevent  it?  He  will  be  here  con- 
stantly " 

"  You  have  n't  yet  learnt  De  Morin.  His  one  aim  in 
life  is  his  own  health  and  comfort.  He  will  be  very  fond 
of  you,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing;  but  he  won't  let  your 
arrival  interfere  the  very  least  degree  with  the  ordinary 
course  of  his  existence." 

"Well,"  said  Napoleon  with  the  decided  voice  of  a 
man  who  needs  such  an  outward  prop  to  stay  his  pur- 
pose, "it  is  useless  to  discuss  the  matter  further.  I  am 
greatly  obliged  to  you  for  your  offer  and  the  devotion 
which  prompts  it,  but  I  cannot  and  must  not  enter- 
tain it." 

"Pray  consider — " 

"No,  I  must  not  and  cannot  entertain  it."  And  at 
this  point  the  Prince  warmed  so  much  and  with  such  sud- 
denness he  seemed  transformed  into  a  glow  of  sympathy 
and  candour.  "  I  absolutely  dare  not.  Your  interests, 
no  less  than  mine,  forbid.  Tell  me,  my  friend, — and 
your  offer  has  at  last  convinced  me  that  you  are  my 
friend, — what  right  have  I  to  jeopardize  the  lives  of  a 
dozen  brave  men,  and  fling  their  homes  into  desola- 
tion? " 

"  That  is  our  chance." 

"  Pardon  me,  it  is  a  deep  concern  of  mine.  Take 
your  own  case.  I  owe  a  duty  not  to  you  alone,  but  also 
to  your  dear  mother.  She  is  loyal  and  patriotic,  that  I 
know  quite  well.  She  would  give  her  life,  aye  and  yours 
also,  to  place  me  on  the  throne;  but  your  death  would 
break  her  heart.  My  chances  of  success  do  not  justify 
so  great  a  sacrifice." 

Brisson  was  on  the  point  of  making  some  not  over- 
complimentary  remarks  about  the  character  of  his 
mother's  loyalty.  Filial  respect,  however,  stopped  him 
just  in  time.  He  compressed  his  lips  and  looked  exceed- 
ingly glum. 

"Accordingly,"  continued  Napoleon,  "you  must  take 
this  as  my  definite  answer.  The  decision  is  a  painful 
one,  but  it  is  given  after  mature  consideration." 


96  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  Then  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  leave  Paris?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not.     Why  do  you  ask?  " 

"You  cannot  go  on  living  here.  You  know  that,  of 
course,"  and  Brisson  glanced  round  the  room  with  some 
contempt. 

"  Wherefore  not,  pray?     What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Surely  you  do  not  suppose  that  the  government  will 
permit  it? " 

"The  government  will  not  know." 

"That  is  absurd." 

"You  are  very  outspoken,  Colonel  Brisson." 

"  I  merely  tell  you  the  truth.  De  Morin  says  exactly 
the  same  thing." 

"  De  Morin? — I  do  not  understand  you." 

"This  evening,  when  we  were  coming  to  fetch  you  to 
the  meeting,  he  remarked  that  your  days  in  the  Rue  de 
Berlin  were  numbered." 

"Did  he  say  that?  "  cried  Napoleon  with  flashing 
eyes. 

"Yes.  He  said  that,  do  what  one  would,  one 
could  n't  keep  police  agents  out  of  these  gatherings." 

"  He  is  an  infamous  liar.  He  told  Hadamard,  in  my 
hearing,  he  knew  every  one  present." 

"That 's  likely  enough,"  said  Brisson,  grimly. 

"  Did  he  say  anything  more?  "  asked  Napoleon. 

"A  good  deal.  I  replied  that  it  would  be  as  well  to 
warn  you.  He  rejoined,  you  had  not  been  in  France 
long  enough  for  the  government  to  take  extreme  meas- 
ures. They  would  merely  deport  you  across  the  fron- 
tier." 

"  He  is  a  traitor,"  cried  Napoleon,  as  vehemently  as 
before. 

"  He  went  on  to  remark  that  you  would  be  quite  as 
happy  in  Brussels  after  a  little  while.  Victor  might  give 
you  a  bed  in  the  Avenue  Louise  until  you  got  a  home  of 
your  own,  and  you  and  he  could  enjoy  many  a  little  ex- 
cursion to  Mons  or  Marienbourg.  " 

"  I  cannot  believe  such  treachery  of  De  Morin." 

Brisson  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height:  "  Do  you 
doubt  my  word?  " 

"  No,  no;  but  De  Morin  may  have  been  jesting." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  97 

"  His  manner  did  not  convey  that  impression.  Here 
is  something  more.  When  we  were  at  Aix,  I  asked  him 
what  was  to  be  done,  if  and  after  you  learnt  your  secret. 
He  said  that  you  must  be  introduced  to  your  party,  and 
get  them  to  vote  you  an  allowance.  I  naturally  pointed 
out  the  obvious  danger.  His  reply,  so  far  as  I  can 
remember,  was  in  these  very  words:  'Oh,  he  will  soon 
get  accustomed  to  Vienna  or  Brussels;  and  it  's  far 
better  for  him  and  us  that  he  should  n't  live  in  Paris. 
The  anxiety  would  be  unbearable  if  he  did.'  " 

"I   hate   him,   I    hate   him.     He   is   an   abominable 
traitor,"   almost    screamed,   his    Highness.     He    gazed 
round  the  room  with   fiercely  affectionate  eyes.     Then 
flinging  his  arms  from  him  with  a  gesture  of  impotent 
despair,  he  wildly  exclaimed:  "I  do  not  want  to  leave 
my  home!  "     It  was  a  pathetic  sight. 
'  I  do  not  want  to  leave  my  home !  " 
'  Why  should  you  leave  it?  " 
'I  will  not  budge  an  inch  from  Paris." 
'You  need  not.      Only  accept  my  proposal." 
'I  accept,  I  accept!  "  cried  the  other  wildly.      "  De 
Morin  is  unworthy  of  trust;  I  place  myself  unreservedly 
in  your  hands." 

Brisson  showed  no  sign  of  triumph.  "You  will  not 
repent  at  the  eleventh  hour?  "  he  asked  dubiously. 

"Certainly  not.     You  hardly  know  me,  Colonel  Bris- 
son.    When  I  say  a  thing,  I  mean  it.     I  place  myself 
unreservedly  in  your  hands." 
"Very  good." 

"Here  is  my  hand  upon  it,"  and  Napoleon  thrust 
forward  his  open  palm  with  great  effusion.  But  no 
amount  of  effusiveness  could  conceal  the  fact  that  it  was 
shaking.  No  quantity  of  brave  words  could  hide  the 
quivering  of  his  lower  lip.  It  might  not  have  been  that 
he  was  frightened,  but  he  was  nervous  and  highly  strung, 
and  he  could  not  master  the  outward  and  visible  signs  of 
the  intense  excitement  this  sudden  resolution  caused  him. 
"Yes,"  he  cried,  with  a  gesture  no  less  impotent 
than  before,  and  this  time  meant  to  denote  decision, 
"  we  will  sink  or  swim  together.  You  shall  essay  your 
plan,  and  we  will  go  through  with  it  to  the  bitter  end." 


98  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  There  need  be  no  bitter  end." 

"  I  am  bound  to  survey  all  contingencies.  '  He  either 
fears  his  fate  too  much — '  You  know  the  English  saying, 
Colonel.  To  the  bitter  end, — that  is  my  final  resolve. 
As  you  saw,  it  took  me  some  time  to  make  up  my  mind; 
but  once  my  mind  is  made  up,  I  am  invariably  adamant. 
To  the  bitter  end,  my  dear  Colonel,  to  the  bitter  end! 
You  and  I  between  us  will  reestablish  the  Empire  or  die 
in  the  attempt." 

How  long  he  might  have  gone  on  gasconading  in  this 
fashion,  history  has  no  chance  of  relating.  Brisson  cut 
him  short  with  military  precision.  "  It  is  getting  late," 
he  remarked,  "perhaps  I  had  better  go  now,  and  return 
first  thing  in  the  morning.  I  must  have  a  word  to-night 
with  General  Changarnier. " 

"  I  would  like  to  hear  a  little  about  the  plan  of  cam- 
paign." 

"That's  simple  enough.  To-morrow  I  shall  intro- 
duce you  to  the  General  and  the  other  leading  men  of 
the  Paris  garrison.  We  can  then  arrange  a  meeting  for 
the  night  after,  in  my  rooms,  to  concert  plans.  The 
whole  business  won't  take  more  than  a  week." 

"And  what  am  I  to  do  meanwhile?" 

"  You  must  remain  indoors  as  much  as  possible." 

"They  will  track  me  down." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  This  is  a  capital  hiding-place. 
None  know  about  it  except  a  very  few.  You  are  safe 
here,  at  any  rate  for  a  fortnight  or  so." 

"  But  I  shall  go  mad  if  I  stay  idle." 

"There  is  plenty  to  be  done.  And  as  for  De  Morin 
and  Hadamard  to-morrow,  do  n't  be  too  docile.  Behave 
as  you  did  this  evening — one  or  two  little  explosions,  and 
generally  agreeing  in  the  end.  You  may  expect  me  at 
two."  Brisson  rose. 

"Good-night,  Colonel, —  and,  I  say,  Brisson, — Can- 
robert  was  the  last  of  the  Marshals,  was  he  not?  " 

"  Assuredly." 

"If  we  succeed,  Brisson,  and  I  become — Napoleon 
IV,  you  shall  be — you  shall  be  the  first  of  the  Marshals. " 


Chapter  VII 


De  Morin  and  Monsieur  Hadamard  appeared  at  the 
appointed  hour  to  take  the  inventory.  They  soon  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  flat  contained  more  than 
enough  for  a  single  gentleman;  they  stopped  when  they 
were  half-way  through  the  kitchen  utensils,  and  said  as 
much. 

"We  needn't  waste  any  more  time,"  said  De  Morin. 
"Obviously,  the  place  is  complete." 

"There  's  the  silver,"  urged  Hadamard. 

"  Oh,  we  shall  see  that  at  lunch.  Come  along,  we  '11 
take  him  through  the  accounts." 

They  took  "  him  "  through  the  accounts.  They  initi- 
ated him  in  all  the  mysteries  of  his  allowance;  where  it 
lay;  how  and  from  what  it  was  raised;  and  the  process 
whereby  he  could  get  any  part  of  it  into  his  possession. 
The  latter  point  was  the  most  important.  De  Morin 
handed  Napoleon  an  entire  cheque-book,  that  was  a 
virgin;  and  ventured  to  hope  that  he  would  make  good 
use  of  it.  MM.  Hadamard  and  Son  were  the  bankers. 
Cousin  Hadamard,  also  a  member  of  the  firm,  begged 
the  Prince  to  look  upon  that  great  house  in  the  light  of 
some  benignant  relative,  whose  sole  purpose  it  was  to 
study  his  pleasure.  Then  the  two  gentleman  gathered 
up  their  papers,  and  declared  their  business  at  an  end. 

After  that,  they  strolled  about  the  room  and  admired 
the  furniture  and  pictures.  They  praised  his  Highness's 
taste.  Both  of  them  stopped  simultaneously  before  a 
Japanese  screen,  worked  in  heavy  glaring  gold,  and 
declared,  with  upraised  palms,  that  rich  quiet  things  like 
these  showed  your  true  man  of  culture.  De  Morin  made 
a  little  excursion  into  the  dining-room  to  have  another 
glance  at  a  bronze  statuette;  he  admired  it  so.  He  came 
back  presently,  looking  a  trifle  disappointed.  Hadamard 

99 


ioo  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

asked  the  address  of  the  Prince's  upholsterer;  also, 
whether  their  host  had  any  objection  to  his  procuring  a 
copy  of  the  chairs.  Encouraged  by  a  favourable  reply, 
De  Morin  made  a  second  excursion  into  the  dining-room, 
only  to  return  with  a  face  more  woebegone  than  ever. 
Napoleon  was  proof  against  these  hints  and  blandish- 
ments. And  at  last  the  two  trustees  had  to  take  their 
departure,  with  nothing  more  substantial  in  them  but  the 
consciousness  of  their  own  integrity  and  virtue. 

As  it  was,  they  were  hardly  gone  before  Brisson  ar- 
rived, the  Colonel  being  punctuality  reduced  to  frac- 
tions. He  certainly  resembled  that  virtue  in  his  cheer- 
lessness.  He  seemed  to  fancy  that  the  mat  in  the  front 
hall  would  be  Napoleon's  Rubicon;  and  with  but  scant 
regard  to  the  usages  of  society,  and  no  small  talk,  hurried 
the  latter  across  the  above-named  domestic  article  into 
the  carriage  which  was  already  waiting. 

"To  the  barracks  in  the  Rue  Desaix!"  he  ordered 
the  coachman ;  then  following  the  Prince  into  the  vehicle, 
banged  the  door. 

The  uncompromising  celerity  with  which  the  whole 
thing  was  done  hardly  increased  Napoleon's  confidence. 
The  Prince  had  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  time  since 
midnight  tightening  his  nerves,  that  he  might  carry  an 
unshaken  front  through  the  coming  venture.  But  he 
was  once  more  "all  of  a  tremble"  long  before  they 
reached  the  Rue  Desaix.  His  skiff  had  been  caught  in 
a  rapid  current,  and  there  was  no  escape  on  either  side 
to  calmer  waters.  This  reflexion  didn't  quiet  his  teeth, 
which  were  clicking  like  the  piano-keys  of  an  electric 
telegraph.  His  restless  hands  kept  raising  and  lowering 
the  window,  on  his  side,  in  bursts  of  feverish  impatience. 
He  shuffled  with  his  feet,  and  most  likely  would  have 
kicked  a  hole  through  the  floor,  had  it  been  some  one 
else's  brougham. 

It  did  not  belong  to  Colonel  Brisson,  who  sat  as 
rigid  as  a  ramrod,  and  equally  unresponsive.  They  were 
almost  at  the  barracks  when  he  first  broke  silence. 

"I  have  been  fairly  successful,"  said  he.  "Out  of 
twelve,  five  have  espoused  your  cause  unconditionally. 
Three  join,  but  with  this  reservation,  that  they  must  be 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  101 

allowed  to  withdraw  if  they  do  not  approve  your  plans. 
Two  promise  no  more  than  this,  to  attend  the  meeting. 
Colonel  Dreyfus,  commanding  the  One  Hundred  and 
Ninth  of  the  line,  gives  an  out-and-out  refusal.  Let  me 
see,  that  makes  eleven.  Changarnier  is  the  twelfth.  I 
went  to  him  first;  indeed,  straight  from  your  Highness's 
house.  He  keeps  late  hours,  and  I  was  with  him  till 
past  three  this  morning.  But  I  did  not  get  much  out  of 
him,  I  regret  to  say.  That  fellow  never  will  commit 
himself  till  he  sees  which  way  the  cat  jumps.  However, 
he  asks  me  to  convey  his  sincere  respects.  He  would 
bring  it  in  person,  he  says,  only  he  is  indisposed.  That 
means,  at  any  rate,  that  he  won't  betray  us  until  after  we 
are  beaten." 

"I  call  this  most  satisfactory.  Colonel  Dreyfus  is 
safe?" 

"  He  gave  me  his  word.     He  is  the  soul  of  honour." 

"Why  does  he  stand  out?  " 

"The  Republic  employs  and  pays  him,"  returned 
Brisson,  not  attempting  to  soften  Dreyfus's  words.  "  Ac- 
cordingly, as  he  maintains,  he  would  be  a  traitor  to  plot 
against  it." 

"You  told  him  that  it  was  his  Country,  not  the  Re- 
public, which  employed  him?" 

"  No.  Dreyfus  will  hardly  make  much  difference.  I 
have  got  Colonel  Klein,  one  of  his  commandants;  and  in 
these  matters  one  battalion  generally  means  both." 

"Of  course,  of  course,"  muttered  Bonaparte,  "two 
battalions  make  a  regiment." 

"The  most  important  of  the  entire  number,  Colonel 
Bonvalet  of  the  Second  Cuirassiers,  has  come  in  uncon- 
ditionally. He  is  wild  with  delight.  I  don't  think  there 
exists  a  stancher  Imperialist  in  France.  By  the  way, 
we  are  going  to  his  rooms  now.  And  the  other  '  uncon- 
ditionalists  '  are  all  good  men.  As  regards  Brigadier 
Marchmont,  who  intends  to  be  present,  but  won't  com- 
mit himself  further,  your  Highness  will  understand  the 
value  of  first  impressions.  He,  too,  is  a  most  important 
item.  His  brigade  contains  some  of  the  officers  likely  to 
prove  most  hostile  to  your  cause.  If  you  win  him  over, 
you  will  have  gone  far  on  the  road  to  ultimate  success." 


102  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"I  will  try  my  best,"  said  Napoleon,  clenching  his 
teeth. 

"  Marchmont  is  to  be  won  over  by  a  firm,  self-reliant 
bearing.  Indeed,  all  of  them  will  watch  you  very  closely; 
and  are  likely  to  be  much  affected  one  way  or  the  other 
by  your  demeanour.  Let  them  see  that  you  are  in  earnest, 
and  they  will  work  for  you  heart  and  soul.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  they  suspect  you  of  being  merely  lukewarm, 
and  ready  to  fly  to  a  safe  retreat  at  the  first  reverse, 
they  won't  exert  themselves  very  greatly  on  your  behalf, 
if  even  they  join  you  at  all." 

Napoleon  sought  composure  by  jerking  up  the  window, 
which  he  fixed,  and  then  jerked  down  again.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  turned  to  his  companion  and  said: 

"I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  sagacious  counsel.  I 
appreciate  absolutely  all  you  say.  You  may  trust  me.  I 
have  been  too  long  waiting  for  my  opportunity,  not  to 
seize  it  when  it  comes.  I  am  not  likely  to  throw  it  away 
by  weakness." 

"  You  may  easily  find  yourself  a  trifle  nervous,"  replied 
Brisson  coldly.  "  Any  man  might,  in  the  midst  of  such 
unlooked-for  circumstances.  After  all,  you  were  not 
born  to  this  sort  of  thing.  That  is  why  I  venture  to 
give  you  the  warning." 

"Oh,  nervousness  is  not  among  my  failings,"  cheer- 
ily, and  Napoleon  almost  bit  off  one  of  his  fingers.  "  I 
did  not  feel  nervous  last  night  " — which  was  quite  true 
— "and  it  was  a  much  larger  meeting  than  this  will  be. 
I  had  n't  a  very  extensive  practice,"  he  added  with  the 
frankness  that  was  becoming  one  of  his  most  charming 
characteristics,  "at  the  English  bar;  but  I  had  enough 
to  cure  me  of  shyness."  And  certainly  when  he  got 
into  Colonel  Bonvalet's  dining-room,  and  found  himself 
surrounded  by  eleven  military  gentlemen,  most  of  high 
rank,  his  tremulousness  vanished  entirely  away. 

The  meeting  throughout  was  quite  informal,  the 
introductions  which  prefaced  it  being  devoid  of  all  cere- 
mony, Colonel  Brisson  rapidly  presenting  each  officer  in 
turn  according  to  his  rank.  General  Breheville  led  off. 
The  General  was  short  and  effeminate-looking,  with  a 
dainty  little  pointed  beard,  brown  and  silken,  and  very 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  103 

much  waxed  moustaches.  Marchmont  followed.  He 
looked  almost  as  incompetent,  with  his  eyeglass  that 
would  n't  stick  on,  his  loose,  weak  mouth,  which  his  beard 
could  not  conceal,  and  his  flabby  manner,  that  had  a  trick 
of  never  taking  him  any  forwarder.  Bonvalet  of  Cuiras- 
siers followed  upon  these  like  a  whiff  of  the  sea.  All  Paris 
knew  Bonvalet  of  Cuirassiers,  the  sturdy  colonel  who  had 
risen  from  the  ranks  and  still  kept  his  original  manners; 
and  Bonvalet  of  Cuirassiers  knew  that  all  Paris  knew  him. 
He  gave  Napoleon  a  hearty  grip  of  the  hand,  welcoming 
him  in  a  lusty  voice  that  appeared  to  say,  "I  am  Bon- 
valet of  Cuirassiers,  I  am ;  the  bluntest,  roughest,  most 
honest  good-fellow  in  the  French  army."  Colonels 
Klein,  Douay,  and  Favoust  took  their  turn  after  Bonvalet 
of  Cuirassiers  was  disposed  of;  and  they  were  succeeded 
by  others  whom  Napoleon  scarcely  had  time  to  notice, 
they  came  and  went  so  rapidly. 

Besides,  our  hero  was  busy  rehearsing  a  little  speech 
wherewith  to  commence  the  real  business  of  the  after- 
noon. He  had  considerable  difficulty  in  selecting  a  suit- 
able invocation.  "  Gentlemen  "  might  be  well  enough  for 
the  Rue  Boissy  d'Anglas;  it  certainly  would  not  do  here. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  could  not  call  them  "  Comrades  " 
or  "  Fellow-soldiers."  "  My  friends  "  sounded  Biblical; 
"  My  men,"  impolite.  "  Officers  of  the  French  army  " 
seemed  the  sole  remaining  alternative;  but  it  erred  by 
being  too  descriptive  and  not  sufficiently  terse.  So,  when 
the  last  man  had  departed,  he  whispered  to  Brisson, 
"What  shall  I  call  them?" 

The  Colonel  stared.      "  Call  them?  " 

"Yes,  how  shall  I  address  them?" 

"Oh,  there  won't  be  any  set  speeches,"  Brisson  re- 
turned abruptly. 

And  there  were  n't.  Bonvalet  handed  round  a  box  of 
big  cheroots,  and  his  guests  disposed  of  themselves  as 
they  listed  about  the  room, — some  on  sofas,  some  in  easy 
chairs,  one  or  two  even  standing.  Breheville,  ever  in 
the  front  rank  where  elegance  was  concerned,  draped 
himself  with  careless  grace  along  the  broad  back  of  a 
settee,  one  arm  resting  on  the  mantelboard.  Brisson 
alone,  of  all  present,  took  a  seat  at  the  table.  As  for  the 


104  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Prince,  before  he  even  knew  it  Bonvalet  of  Cuirassiers 
had  gently  pushed  him  into  alow,  deep  easy-chair,  where, 
when  he  reclined  its  full  length,  his  head  came  on  a  level 
with  his  knees.  Here  he  lay  through  most  of  the  subse- 
quent proceedings,  tearing  a  giant  cheroot  to  pieces  and 
then  trying  to  roll  it  together  again,  his  mind  in  about 
the  same  heaped-up  condition  as  his  body. 

Bonvalet,  who  settled  himself  in  the  settee  under  the 
cover  of  the  back  which  Breheville  had  so  gracefully 
appropriated,  and  opposite  Napoleon,  asked  the  General 
what  he  thought  of  the  cigar. 

"So,  so,"  said  Breheville,  "your  last  box  was  bet- 
ter." 

"Same  price,  General,  identically  the  same  price. 
Brisson,  you  are  n't  smoking!  Pass  him  the  box,  March- 
mont,  there  's  a  dear  fellow.  Your  Highness  likes  these 
cheroots,  I  hope?  They  are  big;  but  I  gave  a  big  price 
for  them." 

Napoleon's  twitching  fingers  crumpled  the  outer  leaf 
into  snuff.  He  tried  to  kindle  the  smouldering  remnant 
into  a  glow,  and  muttered  that  it  was  divine. 

"Cheroots  are  generally  big,"  began  Brigadier  March- 
mont  with  a  vacant  smile.  "  That  is,  some  cheroots  are 
big.  I  prefer  them  smaller  myself.  Not  very  much 
smaller;  indeed,  hardly  any  smaller.  No,  no  smaller; 
these  are  about  the  right  size.  I  don't  think  I  have  seen 
any  quite  so  big  as  these  before.  I  am  certain  I  have 
not.  Nowadays,  cheroots  are  generally  made  small.  I 
prefer  them  big,  myself.  If  anything,  just  a  shade  bigger 
than  these." 

"  I  have  n't  offered  any  of  you  men  anything  to  drink. 
Your  Highness  would  like  a  cup  of  coffee,  or  a  claret  and 
seltzer?  " 

'  No  thank  you." 

'  Bre"heville,  a  claret  and  seltzer?  " 

'  Not  for  me,  thanks.    I  never  drink  between  meals." 

'  Marchmont?  " 

'Well,  if  you  insist;  but  really  I'd  rather  not.  To 
tell  you  the  honest  truth,  I  don't  care  much  for  claret 
and  seltzer.  There  are  many  other  drinks  that  I  prefer; 
coffee,  for  instance,  beer,  lemonade,  sherbet.  Not  that  I 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  105 

object  to  claret  and  seltzer.  Indeed,  on  a  hot  day  like 
this,  it  is  one  of  the  most  refreshing  of  drinks, — the  most 
refreshing,  I  should  say,  and  certainly  the  one  I  prefer 
to  any  other.  So,  if  it  is  n't  inconveniencing  you — " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  Bonvalet,  preparing  to  rise. 

"So,  if  it  isn't  inconveniencing  you,"  Marchmont 
repeated,  in  a  species  of  vacant  flicker,  "I  think  I 
won't." 

Bonvalet  of  Cuirassiers  relapsed  into  his  settee. 
"Good  heavens!"  he  shouted  presently,  "Brisson,  you 
look  as  though  you  were  sitting  on  the  receipt  of  custom. 
Why  in  the  world  cannot  you  come  and  make  yourself  at 
home,  like  the  rest  of  us?  You  are  positively  the  only 
man  not  smoking!  Prince,  I  wish  you  would  order  Bris- 
son  to  light  up." 

The  Prince's  own  cheroot  was  by  this  time  a  rag  of 
mangled  tobacco.  He  therefore  kept  clear  of  a  delicate 
subject. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Klein,  who  commanded  a  battal- 
ion of  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninth,  and  looked  and  was 
inarticulate,  at  this  point  asked  Marchmont  for  a  match. 

"I  am  afraid  I  hav  n't  any,"  that  veteran  replied. 
"  I  had  some  matches  half  an  hour  ago", — wistfully,  as 
though  their  memory  thus  lamented  would  suffice  to 
recall  them, — :"  I  7/a</some  matches,  half  an  hour  ago,  but 
I  gave  them  away  to  a  beggar  in  the  street.  He  looked 
so  hungry,  poor  fellow.  It 's  a  very  curious  thing;  ordi- 
narily, I  am  never  without  matches.  Not  that  I  am  a 
great  smoker;  but  they  always  come  in  handy  for  a 
friend,  or  in  case  one  has  dropt  anything  on  the  floor  or 
wants  to  burn  anything.  Yes,  indeed,  matches  are  in- 
valuable. All  men  ought  to  carry  them;  I  wish  I  was 
more  in  the  habit  of  doing  so  myself.  I  am  ashamed  to 
say  I  very  rarely  do.  I  wish  I  did.  I  had  some,  half  an 
hour  ago.  Really,  I  do  n't  know  what  you  had  better  do. " 

Klein  did  nothing.  He  had  got  his  match  some  five 
minutes  back,  and  was  now  well  hidden  behind  his  cigar 
and  usual  wall  of  impenetrable  silence. 

"  Your  Highness  has  n't  been  to  any  of  our  race-meet- 
ings yet?"  Breheville  inquired,  smiling  down  from  aloft, 
like  some  sort  of  scented  deity. 


106  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"God  bless  my  soul,"  Bonvalet  responded  for  the 
Prince,  "  his  Highness  has  something  better  to  think 
about." 

"  Surely,  any  man,  however  busy,  can  find  time  to  at- 
tend an  occasional  race-meeting,"  lisped  the  General. 
"Look  at  me.  I  've  got  my  division  to  attend  to.  It 
is  '  asleep, '  certainly,  and  does  not  give  me  much  trouble ; 
but  I  am  compelled  to  keep  a  constant  eye  on  it.  Then 
there  is  my  work  at  headquarters;  and  you  know  for 
yourself  what  a  troublesome  creature  Clisserole  is.  He 
would  not  let  a  man  in  the  garrison  rest  for  five  minutes 
together,  if  he  had  his  way.  But  I  manage  to  get  an 
afternoon  now  and  then  at  Longchamps.  So  does  March- 
mont;  I  meet  him  there  frequently.  And  you  won't 
find  a  man  in  the  army  who  works  harder  than  March- 
mont. " 

Marchmont,  thus  appealed  to,  straightway  fell  to 
maundering.  "Oh,  yes,  I  get  down  to  Longchamps  or 
Enghien  occasionally.  It  is  rather  a  job,  as  Bre"heville 
justly  remarks.  Clisserole  drives  one  so.  I  confess  I 
am  exceedingly  fond  of  a  good  race.  There  is  some- 
thing so  fresh,  so  diverting,  in  the  spectacle.  One  can 
see  as  much,  if  only  from  the  crowds  that  are  present  at 
all  first-class  meetings.  The  sport  is  becoming  more 
and  more  popular  every  year.  Thousands  go  nowadays 
who,  a  couple  of  years  ago,  no  more  thought  of  attend- 
ing a  horse-race  than  of  flying  to  the  moon.  I  cannot 
say  I  care  much  for  the  sport  myself.  I  have  only  been 
to  Longchamps  half  a  dozen  times,  and  to  Vincennes 
about  once;  and  I  do  not  fancy  I  shall  ever  visit  either 
place  again.  Clisserole  is  such  a  terrible  slave-driver. 
When  I  want  to  get  away  to  see  a  race — and  that's  pretty 
often — I  have  to  put  up  with  some  abominable  midday 
train,  which  naturally  spoils  the  whole  enjoyment." 

"  Marchmont,  you  are  a  funny  fellow,"  simpered 
Breheville. 

"  My  good  friend,"  the  other  replied  with — for  him — 
a  phenomenal  access  of  energy,  "we  are  all  funny  fel- 
lows, if  it  comes  to  that.  The  world  contains  so  much 
to  make  us  funny — peculiar — strange — I  can't  get  the 
right  word,  but  you,  all  of  you  know,  what  I  mean." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  107 

Then  he  tailed  off  into  fresh  vapourings,  which  Brisson 
brought  to  a  somewhat  abrupt  conclusion. 

"Concerning  what  I  have  already  said  to  all  of  you 
separately,"  broke  in  the  latter. 

"Business!  business!"  groaned  their  host;  "it's 
always  business  with  you,  Brisson.  Cannot  you  let  us 
settle  down  a  bit?  Look  at  the  Prince;  he  isn't  half 
through  his  cheroot  yet.  We  have  the  whole  afternoon 
before  us." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  Brisson  responded.  "His 
Highness  and  I  have  much  to  do  before  evening." 

"  As  you  please,"  was  the  muttered  rejoinder.  "For 
my  part,  I  do  not  see  what  on  earth  we  have  got  to  talk 
about.  The  whole  thing  is  settled.  It  merely  remains 
to  fix  the  date." 

Klein  looked  as  though  he  wanted  to  say  something. 
Marchmont  said  it  for  him. 

"  Hardly  that — not  quite  that.  You  are  nearly  right; 
but  not  quite." 

"Well,  most  of  us  are  agreed.  I  am,  I  know.  Your 
Highness  need  only  say  the  word,  and  I  would  have  my 
boys  out  to-night," — he  waved  his  hand  in  an  airy,  care- 
less manner  towards  the  window.  "We  should  n't  want 
Klein  or  Marchmont.  We  could  manage  the  trick  single- 
handed. " 

"  Nothing  equals  artillery  for  street-fighting, ' '  Colonel 
Douay  interposed  coldly.  He  had  not  spoken  before; 
but  he  had  violet  eyes  and  a  cheerless  manner,  features 
which  entitled  him  to  consideration.  He  was,  moreover, 
an  artillerist  of  some  merit.  "Cavalry  isn't  in  it,"  he 
continued ;  "your  Highness  will  know  that  as  well  as  any 
man." 

"  His  highness  was  n't  present  at  Vendemiaire, "  sim- 
pered Breheville. 

"I  did  n't  say  he  was.  There  are  some  men  who 
know  a  little  about  their  ancestors." 

"  It  depends  entirely  whether  they  have  any  ancestors 
to  know." 

"  Precisely.     That  is  exactly  what  I  meant." 

"  Come,  come, "  cried  the  bluff  Bonvalet,  "we  must  n't 
get  to  high  words.  What  with  your  bickerings  and  in- 


roS  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

nuendoes,  you  two  are  just  like  a  couple  of  old  maiden 
ladies.  You  have  both  got  very  nice  ancestors,  so  you 
need  not  malign  them." 

Brisson  cleared  his  throat. 

"It  is  extremely  necessary,  "he  began,  "that  we 
should  all  be  of  one  mind.  We  are  not  in  line  yet. 
General  Marchmont,  cannot  you  now  give  me  a  definite 
answer?  " 

"  Well,  I  do  n't  know ;  really  I  do  n't  know, ' '  faltered 
Marchmont.  He  hardly  appreciated  the  sudden  promi- 
nence into  which  the  question  thrust  him.  "You  see,  it 
does  not  do  to  make  up  one's  mind  too  hastily  in  these 
matters.  I  am  exceedingly  pleased  to  meet  his  Imperial 
Highness.  I  was  a  subaltern  in  sevent —  in  the  late  Em- 
peror's time.  Nevertheless,  I  can't  think  it  is  right  to 
throw  France  into  confusion,  unless  we  can  be  quite  quite 
certain  of  success.  Consider  the  quantity  of  innocent 
blood  we  shall  shed,  not  excluding  the  Prince's.  No,  I 
can't  think  it  is  right.  Mind,  I  do  not  say  it  is  wrong; 
but  it  isn't  right — that  is,  it  isn't  safe." 

"We  must  do  without  the  Brigadier  for  the  present," 
said  Bonvalet.  "  He  '11  come  in  by  and  by  when  he  has 
heard  us  chat  a  bit.  Who  is  the  other  malcontent? 
There  were  two,  I  believe." 

"Major  Gorin,"  said  Brisson,  consulting  his  note- 
book. 

"Damn  it  all!  "  bellowed  Bonvalet;  "one  of  my  offi- 
cers! I  won't  have  it,  Gorin,  you  know.  I  won't  have 
it.  Come  out  of  that  corner  and  get  Brisson  to  alter 
your  name." 

Major  Gorin  obeyed  at  once. 

"  Mutiny  in  my  own  regiment,"  growled  the  still  irate 
Colonel.  "I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing.  It's  the 
fault  of  that  blasted  St.  Cyr.  /won't  stand  any  of  their 
humbug." 

"  Colonel  Bonvalet,  Third  Cuirassiers,"  Brisson  began 
in  a  sing-song  voice,  "  you  can  answer  for  your  men?  " 

"  Every  blasted  one. " 

"General  Breheville?" 

"It  is  rather  difficult  to  answer  for  a  division," 
smirked  that  officer.  "For  myself,  I  am  with  you, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  109 

heart  and  soul;  but  at  present  my  division  is  asleep,  if  I 
may  be  permitted  to  use  the  expression.  It  is  not  by 
any  means  complete.  Half  of  it  is  in  Algiers;  and  of 
the  other  half,  one  battalion  is  with  Mesnil  in  Lille — my 
best  too.  That  horrid  little  fellow  gets  the  pick  of 
everything;  I  do  n't  like  him  at  all.  However,  all  said 
and  done,  I  daresay  I  could  manage  three  battalions  for 
you,  three  battalions  and  possibly  a  squadron  of  dra- 
goons. The  latter,  though,  are  shaky;  kindly  bear  that 
in  mind.  Their  commander  is  not  to  be  relied  on." 

Brisson  followed  him  patiently  to  the  end  of  his  ha- 
rangue, making  occasional  notes  the  while,  then  turned  to 
Colonel  Favoust: 

"Colonel  Favoust,  commanding  a  battalion  of  the 
Seventh  of  the  line?" 

•'My  men  are  well-affected;  I  cannot  say  so  much 
for  the  officers.  Still,  I  think  I  could  promise  a  solid 
five  hundred." 

"Sometimes  the  officers  influence  the  men, "  began 
Marchmont;  "sometimes  they  do  not.  I  know,  when  I 
enjoyed  a  regimental  command,  my  officers  exercised  an 
influence  over  the  rank  and  file  that  was  paramount." 

"Colonel  Donremy,  commanding  the  Third?" 

"The  officers  are  Imperialist  to  a  man;  they  will 
carry  the  regiment." 

"Precisely  what  would  have  happened  in  the  Tenth 
when  I  commanded  it,"  murmured  Marchmont.  "The 
effects  were  sometimes  a  trifle  inconvenient;  but  on  the 
whole  it  is  best  that  the  rank  and  file — " 

"  Gerardt,  how  about  your  dragoons?  " 

"They  are  all  right.  You  need  have  no  fear  about 
them.  Their  sole  anxiety  is  to  get  to  work  as  quickly 
as  possible." 

Commandant  Laurent,  who  had  to  answer  for  a  bat- 
talion of  the  Ninety-seventh,  and  Colonel  Douay,  who 
could  promise  a  couple  of  mounted  batteries,  both  gave 
the  same  reply.  Klein  alone  demurred.  He,  it  may  be 
remembered,  had  charge  of  half  Dreyfus's  regiment,  the 
One  Hundred  and  Ninth;  and  when  Brisson  asked  him 
the  now  familiar  question,  he  gave  an  affirmative  answer 
as  regards  his  men,  but  said  in  addition: 


no  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  My  stipulation  must  not  be  lost  sight  of.  I  do  not 
finally  join  until  I  see  the  plan." 

"Klein,  you're  worse  than  any  old  lady,"  Bonvalet 
remarked.  "What  would  become  of  the  Prince's  chance, 
of  success,  do  you  suppose,  were  the  remainder  of  us  to 
make  the  same  ridiculous  reservation?"  The  taciturn 
Klein,  however,  had  a  soul  above  polemics.  He  had 
said  his  say,  and  now  he  went  back  into  silence. 

Brisson  turned  to  Napoleon: 

"Your  Highness  hears  these  gentlemen?  So  far, 
things  are  quite  satisfactory." 

"  Thanks  to  you, "  murmured  Napoleon,  endeavouring 
to  raise  his  head. 

"  Now  my  idea  was,"  Brisson  went  on,  addressing  the 
general  company,  "that  we  should  at  once,  and  in  this 
place,  agree  upon  a  night.  I  suggest  next  Wednesday. 
We  know  pretty  well  the  number  of  troops  we  shall  have 
at  our  disposal.  Before  we  separate  we  can  arrange  how 
best  to  post  them  through  the  city." 

"  Wednesday  is  rather  close,"  said  Breheville.  "It 
only  means  two  clear  days." 

"  The  sooner,  the  better,  say  I,"  cried  Bonvalet. 

"I  think  Bonvalet  is  right,"  said  Favoust. 

"And  so  do  I,"  muttered  Major  Gorin,  with  that 
conviction  which  comes  from  a  sincere  desire  to  please. 

"There  cannot  be  a  doubt  about  it,"  urged  Bonvalet. 
"What  does  the  Prince  say?  " 

"I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  you." 

"That  settles  it,"  from  Gorin. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  insisted  Breheville.  "  There  are  a 
good  dozen  men  yet  to  be  seen  and  talked  to.  Bris- 
son has  done  marvels,  considering  the  short  time:  with 
five  or  six  days  more,  and  all  of  us  working  together, 
we  shall  capture  every  officer  of  note  in  the  garrison. 
Why,  we  are  not  altogether  certain  of  Marchmont  yet, — 
are  we,  Marchmont?  " 

"  Oh,  I  would  n't  quite  say  that.      The  fact  is — " 

"  Then  there  is  Clisserole.  We  cannot  possibly  move 
without  Clisserole.  And  Changarnier  is  another." 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  said  Brisson.  "Shall  we 
make  it  the  second  week  in  July?  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  in 

"Good  Lord,  no!"  ejaculated  Bonvalet;  "that  is 
really  a  bit  too  strong.  All  Paris  will  get  to  hear  of  it. 
I  am  no  scholar,  but  I  always  understood  a  '  coup  '  to 
signify  something  sharp  and  sudden." 

"What  do  you  say  to  the  fourth  of  next  month?  " 
Brisson  inquired  of  Breheville. 

"Make  it  the  fifth,"  the  other  replied.  "A  much 
better  day,  and  it  will  give  us  a  clear  week." 

"  I  do  not  object.     Does  any  one  else?  " 

"I  should  prefer  to-night,"  grumbled  Bonvalet. 

"Any  one  else?  You,  Klein  and  Douay,  what  do  you 
say?  " 

"I  do  not  object  to  the  date,"  said  Klein,  "but  I 
shall  have  to  hear  more  about  the  details  before  I  finally 
consent." 

"General  Marchmont?  " 

The  Brigadier  began  to  move  his  ponderous,  flaccid 
mouth,  but  Bonvalet  got  in  before  him.  "  Let  us  get  to 
the  arrangements.  Brisson,  that  is  a  plan  of  Paris  at 
your  elbow.  Spread  it  out  on  the  table,  and  we  can  all 
have  a  look  at  it." 

"Thanks,  I  need  no  plans,"  Brisson  replied,  con- 
sulting another  of  his  many  documents.  "  I  have  already 
drawn  up  a  small  disposition.  It  is  quite  simple,  and 
can  easily  be  modified." 

"  Really,  you  think  of  everything,"  said  Napoleon  in 
genuine  admiration. 

Brisson  cleared  his  throat.  "  I  suggest  nine  at  night 
as  a  good  time  to  begin;  except  for  Laurent  and  Don- 
remy,  who  have  farther  to  go,  and  must  therefore  start 
at  eight. 

"At  nine,  then,  precisely,  the  rest  of  us  will  parade 
our  men  in  our  separate  barracks;  let  them  into  the 
secret, — mind,  not  a  word  beforehand  to  a  living  soul — 
and  march  them  off  to  the  following  destinations.  Klein 
is  to  surround  the  Elyse"e,  and  get  hold  of  the  President. 
He  can  take  him  across  the  way  to  my  barracks.  I  pro- 
pose myself  to  send  a  couple  of  companies  to  bring  in 
Carache  and  Pontecoulant;  none  of  the  other  ministers 
are  worth  taking.  My  barracks  can  serve  as  the  house 
of  detention;  it  is  central,  and  shall  be  strongly  guarded. 


ii2  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

When  Klein  has  managed  Monsieur,  he  is  to  rendezvous 
on  the  Champs  Elyse"es.  My  arrangement  contemplates 
further  that  Douay  should  have  a  half-battery  stationed 
by  the  Ministry  of  Marine,  facing  down  the  Rue  de 
Rivoli— " 

"I  cannot  see  the  good  of  that,"  interrupted  the 
cuirassier.  "Much  better  let  me  place  a  squadron 
there.  We  could  clear  the  street  very  much  faster  than 
Douay." 

Douay  curled  his  upper  lip. 

"It  is  merely  a  suggestion,"  Brisson  answered,  "we 
shall  have  plenty  of  time  to  make  alterations."  He 
resumed  his  recital:  "Half  a  battery  by  the  Ministry  of 
Marine,  half  a  battery  in  the  Place  de  1'Opera,  half  a 
battery  on  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde,  and  a  couple  of  guns 
in  the  Place  de  la  Republique. " 

"  I  do  n't  agree  with  your  disposal  at  all,"  said  Douay. 

"You  must  be  somewhere,  you  know,"  Bonvalet 
interjected. 

"Quite  so,  but  who  is  to  support  me  at  those  dis- 
tances? I  might  as  well  scatter  one  gun  apiece  over  the 
different  quarters  of  the  city,  and  leave  any  one  who 
chose  to  come  and  take  them.  No,  I  mean  to  stick  to 
the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  I  do  not  mind  a  dash  now  and 
again  down  the  Rue  de  Rivoli.  But  I  'm  not  going  to 
shed  fractions  of  my  batteries  over  the  highways  and 
byways." 

Brisson  looked  appealingly  across  at  Napoleon,  who, 
on  his  side,  had  for  the  last  five  minutes  been  gazing 
abstractedly  at  him,  and  thinking  how  very  much  he 
resembled  Don  Quixote.  The  Prince  roused  himself  and 
turned  to  Douay. 

"The  plans  will  be  modified  hereafter,"  he  mur- 
mured. "  Brisson  is  only  indicating  his  ideas.  And  I  am 
quite  certain  he  would  not  place  you  anywhere  without 
support." 

Douay  mumbled  something  under  his  breath. 

"I  am  quite  certain  of  it.  Please,  for  my — for — for 
— on  your  loyalty,  let  him  go  on." 

Somehow  this  little  appeal  did  not  make  a  very  good 
impression. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  113 

"  Go  on,  Brisson,"  said  Bonvalet  shortly. 

"Laurent,"  continued  the  Colonel  from  his  paper, 
"is  to  remain  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  until  he 
hears  from  his  Highness.  He  will  guard  the  bridges 
between  Crenelle  and  the  Orleans  railway  station.  No 
one  must  be  suffered  to  cross  who  cannot  give  the 
countersign.  I  also  propose  that  he  should  tell  off  three 
companies:  one  for  the  Palais  Bourbon,  another  for  the 
Luxembourg — " 

"What  nonsense, "  cried  Bonvalet.  "They  do  not 
sit  at  nine  o'clock  at  night." 

The  portion  of  the  table  in  front  of  Brisson  was  by 
now  littered  with  papers.  He  made  no  direct  reply  to 
Bonvalet's  interruption,  but  selecting  a  scrap  from 
among  the  documents  before  him,  commenced  leisurely 
to  peruse  its  contents. 

"  I  merely  follow  De  Moray,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Lis- 
ten to  this.  He  is  writing  in  1852:  If  'I  had  to  make 
another  coup  d'etat,'  says  he,  'I  should  seize  two  points, 
and  two  points  only.  The  meeting-place  of  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly  is  the  first  and  the  most  important. 
Get  hold  of  that,  even  though  it  be  only  of  pasteboard, 
and  you  silence  the  Assembly.  It  is  as  though  you  were 
to  shut  the  sea  against  a  whale.  The  second  point  is 
the  Ministry  of  War.' ' 

"The  Ministry  of  War?"  from  Breheville;  "really  I 
do  n't  see  the  force  of  that." 

"Leave  him  alone,"  the  colonel  of  Cuirassiers  en- 
treated; "he  will  only  give  us  more  De  Morny. " 

Brisson  returned  to  his  arrangement. 

"Therefore,  as  I  put  it,  Laurent  will  also  detach  a 
company  to  guard  the  last-named  building.  These  three 
companies  are  to  remain  at  their  respective  posts  all 
through  the  night.  The  remaining  five — " 

"Good  God!"  broke  in  the  irrepressible  Bonvalet; 
"the  fellow  knows  the  merest  details.  There  will  only 
be  one  place  for  you,  Brisson,  when  his  Highness  is  on 
the  throne, — the  Ministry  of  War." 

"Don't  be  foolish,  Bonvalet,"  General  Breheville 
said  tartly.  "  You  have  no  right  to  influence  the  Prince's 
mind  in  that  way." 


ii4  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"At  least  you  won't  get  the  job,"  the  other  retorted, 
glancing  maliciously  up  over  his  right  shoulder  at  the 
recumbent  General. 

"  I  shall  withdraw  from  the  whole  undertaking  if  Bon- 
valet  is  to  be  allowed  to  indulge  in  these  personalities." 

"The  remaining  five,  which  are  scattered  over  the 
bridges  will,  directly  word  comes  from  his  Highness, 
march  in  to  the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  Favoust  I 
have  told  off  to  patrol  the  boulevards  from  the  Made- 
leine to  the  Gare  de  Vincennes.  He  will  also  take 
charge  of  the  St.  Lazare,  Northern,  and  Lyons  Termini." 

"  Much  too  dispersed,"  Breheville  objected. 

Brisson's  left  hand  commenced  to  wander  among  his 
papers. 

"More  De  Morny, "  groaned  Bonvalet. 

"The  Count  says,"  Brisson  remarked  imperturbably, 
"  '  in  street-fighting  divide  et  impera  is  the  safest  maxim. ' 
Favoust,  like  the  others,  will,  on  receiving  word  from 
his  Highness,  bring  his  men  into  the  Place  de  la  Con- 
corde. Donremy  is  to  march  straight  from  his  barracks, 
to  the  rendezvous  and  to  hold  it  with  all  its  approaches, 
being  especially  careful  to  keep  in  touch  with  his  second 
battalion,  which  I  have  detailed  to  patrol  the  Avenues 
des  Champs  Elysee,  and  Kleber.  Gerardt  attaches  him- 
self to  Colonel  Laurent  and  keeps  to  the  other  side  of  the 
river.  He  must  have  his  men  well  in  hand,  so  that  he 
may  be  able  to  cross  at  a  moment's  notice." 

"I  do  not  approve  of  that,"  said  Marchmont,  feeling 
that  it  was  his  turn  to  create  a  diversion. 

"What  is  your  objection?  " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  exactly;  but  I  do  not  approve 
of  it." 

"Let  him  be  Brisson;  he  will  never  stop,  once  he 
begins." 

"As  regards  yourself,  General  Breheville,"  Brisson 
resumed,  "  I  have  put  you  down  for  two  regiments." 

"I  cannot  possibly  manage  as  much." 

"  Call  it  one  and  a  half  then?  " 

"  If  you  choose.  But  even  that  is  not  certain.  It  de- 
pends entirely  upon  the  commanding  officers,  and  two  of 
them  are  crotchety  creatures." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  115 

"  I  want  you  to  give  Favoust  a  battalion.  He  is  not 
over-strong,  and  we  must  keep  an  eye  on  Montmartre. 
A  second  battalion  should  go  to  Laurent  across  the  river, 
and  the  third — the  third  might  help  Douay  with  his  guns. 
By  the  way,  did  you  say  cavalry?  " 

"  I  daresay  I  could  give  you  a  few  dragoons." 

"They  must  keep  with  Donremy  along  the  Rue  de 
Rivoli  for  choice." 

"I  have  no  objection,"  said  Breheville. 

"What  the  devil  do  I  do?"  cried  Bonvalet  of 
Cuirassiers,  who  had  been  growing  more  fidgetty  as  the 
minutes  went  on,  and  could  now  restrain  himself  no  longer. 

"The  Prince  has  no  more  faithful  servant  than  your- 
self," Brisson  responded,  without,  however,  any  change 
in  the  sing-song  of  his  tone.  "I  have  accordingly 
allotted  to  you  the  task  of  guarding  his  person." 

"  It  won't  take  a  regiment  to  do  that,"  replied  Bon- 
valet,  glancing  with  a  not  over-genial  expression  at  the 
recumbent  figure  opposite. 

"You  could  lend  Donremy  a  squadron.  The  Place 
de  la  Concorde  is  the  heart  of  the  position ;  I  have  chosen 
it  as  the  general  rendezvous.  So  our  friend  cannot  be 
too  strong." 

"  I  will  take  that  job.  Major  Gorin,  you  will  keep  a 
couple  of  troops  and  guard  his  Highness.  Do  you 
hear?" 

"But  I  propose  that  you  should  have  charge  of  the 
Imperial  escort,"  Brisson  made  haste  to  say. 

"I  prefer  street-fighting,"  Bonvalet  rejoined  grimly. 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  there  won't  be  any  bloodshed,"  fal- 
tered Napoleon. 

Breheville  alone  took  any  notice  of  this  altruism. 
"Yes,"  he  remarked  gingerly,  "blood  is  horrid,  espe- 
cially when  you  can  do  without  it." 

"No,  no,"  Brisson  insisted,  "you  must  take  charge 
of  his  Highness's  person.  It  is  quite  as  important  as  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde.  What  should 'we  do  if,  after  we  had 
got  the  whole  city  into  our  possession,  the  Prince  wasn't 
forthcoming?  " 

"Very well,"  Bonvalet  consented  sullenly.  "Gorin, 
you  will  put  yourself  under  Colonel  Donremy's  orders. 


n6  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Do  n't  let  me  hear  afterwards  that  you  permitted  the  men 
to  use  the  flat  of  their  sabres." 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  there  won't  be  any  bloodshed." 

"  Go  on,  Brisson.  What 's  to  be  done  with  Bonaparte 
during  the  play?  " 

"  I  propose  that  he  should  remain  in  my  barracks  until 
things  are  ready  for  him  outside." 

"Oh!"  said  Breheville,  glumly. 

"Oh!  "  muttered  one  or  two  others,  with  the  same 
deprecatory  emphasis. 

Brisson  kept  on  his  course  quite  unperturbed. 

"  It  is  the  most  central  place  of  its  kind  in  Paris;  the 
Prince  can  be  in  the  Champs  Elysees  three  minutes  after 
we  send  for  him.  Again,  the  barracks  are  to  be  strongly 
guarded.  Bonvalet  will  be  present  with  his  Cuirassiers, 
and  I  shall  leave  some  of  my  own  men.  Other  distin- 
guished people,"  he  added  without  the  flicker  of  a 
smile,  "will  spend  the  evening  there,  out  of  harm's  way. 
I  am  convinced  it  is  the  best  plan.  The  Prince  is  to 
move  into  my  quarters  at  four  o'clock  that  same  after- 
noon, so  as  to  be  in  safety  before  the  business  begins. 
Bonvalet,  you,  of  course,  will  not  start  from  here  until 
nine:  I  ought  to  have  added  that." 

"And  I  am  to  stay  hanging  about  the  barrack  square 
from  half-past  nine  onwards?  Thank  you!  " 

"You  must  do  what  his  Highness  orders." 

"  His  Highness  does  not  order  me  to  stand  kicking 
my  heels  for  two,  perhaps  three,  hours  in  your  miserable 
back  yard.  Flesh  and  blood  can't  stand  it ;  at  all  events, 
my  flesh  and  blood  can't.  I  must  see  some  of  the  fun." 

Brisson  appealed  to  Napoleon. 

And  Napoleon  remarked  plaintively,  "Oh,  I  do  hope 
there  won't  be  any  bloodshed." 

Bonvalet,  despite  the  grievance  rankling  in  his  breast, 
burst  into  a  rough  laugh. 

"  Brisson  and  I  will  settle  it  between  us  afterwards. 
Continue,  my  dear  Minister  of  War." 

"  I  find  I  have  forgotten  to  mention,  whatever  troops 
I  can  spare  will  be  at  Douay's  disposal.  And  that  fin- 
ishes the  general  arrangement.  As  you  see,  it  has  been 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  117 

made  in  outline.  Any  more  men  we  can  get  hold  of  can 
be  planted  on  that  skeleton." 

There  followed  a  short  interval  of  silence,  which  was 
broken  at  last  by  Breheville. 

"  It  sounds  reasonable  enough.  I  cannot  think  of  any 
important  omission.  Your  arrangement  provides  for 
every  strategic  point  in  the  whole  city;  and,  after  all, 
that  is  the  main  question.  Once  we  dominate  the  city, 
the  rest  will  be  quite  easy.  In  fact,  there  will  be  no 
'rest';  everything  will  have  been  done." 

"The  arrangement  seems  to  me  fairly  complete," 
Brisson  admitted ;  "  Marchmont,  what  do  you  say?  " 

"Oh,  I  hardly  know.  Is  not  this  attempt  of  yours 
rather  a  leap  in  the  dark?  The  army  is  Imperialist  to 
the  core,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  And  the  lot  of  us 
have  only  to  speak  half  a  dozen  words  to  our  men  to  get 
them  to  join  cordially  in  the  project;  but — but — isn't 
the  business  rather,  rather  sudden;  isn't  it,  so  to  speak, 
rather  a  leap  in  the  dark?  I  do  not  mean  that  it  won't 
be  successful.  I  am  sure  it  will  be  successful ;  and  I  am 
one  of  your  Highness's  most  loyal  partisans — at  heart, 
that  is,  but  the  project  does  involve  a  leap  in  the  dark, 
I  am  convinced.  I  should  say,  nearly  convinced." 

"There  is  never  any  discovering  what  you  mean." 

"Colonel  Bonvalet,  I  am  addressing  myself  to  his 
Highness." 

"I  appreciate  your  point  thoroughly,"  Bonaparte 
replied,  bending  forward,  and  literally  bristling  with 
impatience  to  get  out  a  satisfactory  reply.  "There  is 
much  truth  in  your  remarks.  We  are  going  to  make  the  at- 
tempt a  trifle  too  suddenly  for  me  to  feel  altogether  easy. 
A  week  is  hardly  time  enough,  I  agree,  where  one  has  to 
arrange  the  preliminaries  of  such  a  gigantic  undertaking. 
I  comprehend,  too,  the  difficulty  which  seems  to  weigh 
with  you  most.  The  various  regiments,  according  to 
Brisson's  plan,  are  only  to  receive  an  hour's  notice  of 
what  is  required  of  them.  Is  this — can  this  be  wise? 
Had  we  not  far  better  take  the  first  opportunity  to  let 
them  know  my  story  and  my  aims? — at  once  invite  their 
co-operation?  A  few  pamphlets  judiciously  distributed, 


uS  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

a  word  here  and  there  from  a  commanding  officer,  and 
the  matter  would  soon  spread  in  every  direction  through 
the  rank  and  file.  A  month  to  filter  through ;  a  month 
to  germinate  in  their  minds!  Tell  me,  General  March- 
mont,  what  do  you  say  to  that?  " 

"I  am  sure  I  do  not  know,"  said  Marchmont,  so 
puzzled  and  woebegone  he  might  have  been  explaining 
the  reason  for  assets  nil  to  the  official  receiver. 

"That  would  put  the  date  somewhere  about  the  end 
of  September,"  Napoleon  continued,  much  encouraged 
by  the  awe-inspired  silence  which  greeted  this  first  at- 
tempt on  his  part  to  assume  the  reins.  "We  could 
employ  the  time  in  spreading  our  net  outside  Paris. 
Why,  in  about  six  weeks,  we  might  have  every  officer  in 
the  service  on  our  side.  Little  General  Mesnil  among 
them;  we  want  him.  Yes,  yes,  I  am  convinced  this  is 
the  better  course.  What  say  you,  gentlemen?  " 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  All  eyes  were  turned  on 
the  Prince's  face.  The  prevailing  look  was  one  of  deep 
consternation. 

He  did  not  notice.  He  imagined  that  his  words  had 
put  things  in  their  right  place.  He  was  master;  they 
were  there  to  listen  and  obey.  He  commenced  afresh 
without  a  qualm: 

"The  question  arises,  what  shall  I  do  in  the  mean 
time?  Paris  would  scarcely  be  safe.  I  have  it!  I  can 
hide  a  little  way  out;  some  town  thirty  miles  distant, 
where  they  will  never  think  of  looking  for  me." 

"I  withdraw  my  services,"  said  Klein. 

"With  great  respect  to  Monseigneur,  so  do  I,"  ex- 
claimed Douay  and  Laurent  almost  simultaneously. 

"I  shall  have  to  reconsider  my  position,"  minced 
Breheville. 

"And  I,"  "And  I,"  from  one  or  two  others. 

"I  am  not  sure  I  don't  follow  suit,"  cried  the  bluff 
Cuirassier.  "  By  heavens,  /  won't  wait  till  September. " 
His  fierce  eyes  were  starting  out  of  his  head;  he  puffed 
out  both  cheeks,  possibly  to  keep  the  former  from  drop- 
ping altogether. 

The  defection  was  now  general.  It  would  have  gone 
beyond  recall  had  not  Brisson  rudely  deposed  his  master 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  119 

from  the  box-seat, — a  retreat  into  private  life  which  the 
latter  accepted  readily  enough. 

"We  keep  to  July  5th!"  he  said  decisively.  "His 
Highness  merely  offered  the  suggestion.  We  cannot 
accept  it.  Well  and  good ;  no  harm  has  been  done.  Once 
for  all,  gentlemen,  whatever  else  may  change,  the  date 
will  not." 

These  words  were  received  with  an  unanimous 
chorus  of  approval.  Every  man  p~esent  seemed  to 
breathe  again. 

"  My  word,"  exclaimed  Bonvalet,  only  he  employed  a 
stronger  expletive,  "what  an  absolutely  insane  idea. 
The  end  of  September!  Why,  the  lot  of  us  would  have 
been  in  glory  by  then." 

"As  for  General  Mesnil,"  said  Breheville,  drawing  a 
scented  handkerchief  over  his  marble  brow;  "  that  was 
a  most  fatal  proposition.  He  has  a  reputation  certainly, 
but  believe  me,  Monseigneur,  it  is  quite  unmerited. 
Those  who  really  know  him  consider  him  the  most  incom- 
petent, chattering,  self-sufficient  little  jackass  between 
here  and  Moscow.  And  when  a  man  has  a  bad  name  in 
the  service,  you  can  be  positive  there  is  something  wrong 
with  him. " 

"September  indeed!"  resumed  Bonvalet.  Brisson 
cut  him  short. 

"The  incident  is  at  an  end,"  said  he.  "Concerning 
General  Marchmont,  I  propose  to  include  him  in  my  list. 
I  put  him  down  at  four  battalions.  Two  battalions  should 
go  to  Laurent,  for  use  on  the  south  side.  The  remainder 
had  better  co-operate  with  Favoust  and  Donremy. " 

A  great  weight  seemed  at  once  to  be  lifted  off  the 
Brigadier's  mind.  He  dropped  his  eyeglass  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "Very  good,"  he  murmured  with  genuine 
gratitude. 

"  It  only  remains  that  we  should  appoint  some  one  to 
take  the  chief  command,"  said  Brisson. 

Breheville  slid  gracefully  to  the  floor.  "  Exactly  so," 
he  remarked,  at  the  same  moment  beginning  to  move 
absent-mindedly  towards  the  table  and  Brisson's  papers. 

"General  Clisserole,"  the  latter  continued,  "will 
naturally  have  the  post,  if  he  joins  us." 


120  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Breheville  came  to  a  dead  stop. 

"But  the  question  is,"  said  Brisson,  "whether  we 
ought  to  approach  him." 

"  He  certainly  is  a  dangerous  fellow,"  said  Breheville. 
"  One  can  never  be  sure  what  he  will  do.  He  might  go 
off  straightaway,  and  disclose  the  whole  business  to 
Carache. " 

"He  would  be  an  immense  acquisition,"  Brisson 
returned  dubiously  for  the  other  side.  "  He  carries  such 
weight  with  the  men,  besides  being  head  of  the  garrison. 
Then  there  is  Changarnier. " 

"Let  us  sleep  upon  it,"  suggested  the  Brigadier; 
"let  us  sleep  on  both  of  them." 

' '  Better  leave  it, ' '  Breheville  said  with  decision ;  ' '  the 
risk  is  too  great.  As  for  Changarnier,  he  is  out  of  the 
question." 

"Yes,  I  am  afraid  you  are  right.  We  must  choose 
one  of  ourselves." 

"  That  will  be  best.  Of  course,  if  Clisserole  or  Chan- 
garnier do  come  in,  the  other  fellow  can  easily  hand  over 
the  command,"  and  the  General  resumed  his  interrupted 
progress  towards  the  results  of  Brisson's  labour. 

No  one  seemed  anxious  to  commit  himself  to  a  sug- 
gestion. Bonvalet  gazed  with  sinister  eyes  at  Breheville's 
moving  form. 

Klein  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"I  propose  that  Colonel  Brisson  take  the  command." 

"I  second  Colonel  Klein,"  cried  the  Prince.  The 
proposal  passed  with  a  minority  of  one,  who  did  not  say 
anything;  Brisson  was  accordingly  declared  elected. 

Br^heville  went  quite  up  to  him,  and  leant  affection- 
ately over  his  chair. 

"Brisson,  I  congratulate  you  with  ail  my  heart,"  he 
purred.  "Your  industry  merited  such  a  compliment. 
But  put  a  little  initiative  and  dash  into  it  as  well,  dear 
friend;  industry  alone,  remember,  never  yet  sufficed  for 
a  coup  <T etat.  Make  a  determined  effort  to  copy  the 
Morny,  whom  you  are  so  fond  of  quoting.  It  will  be 
hard;  still,  a  man  of  your  perseverance  may  reasonably 
hope  for  a  fair  amount  of  success.  Elan  is  what  you 
need  most.  By  the  way,  I  think  you  said  the  fifth?  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  121 

"Yes." 

"I  rather  fear  I  shall  be  absent  from  Paris  on  that 
date.  I  hope  not.  Sincerely,  I  hope  not;  but  I  am 
afraid.  I  shall  be  able  to  let  you  know  for  certain,  a  day 
or  two  hence." 

"  At  any  rate,  we  may  count  on  your  division?  " 

"Oh  yes,  you  may  count  on  my  division.  I  am 
afraid,  though,  you  will  not  find  them  much  use  without 
me;  the  regimental  officers  are  so  pig-headed." 

Brisson  collected  his  papers,  and  rose  from  the  table, 
at  which  he  had  sat  with  such  patience  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  afternoon.  "The  full  number  of  us,"  he 
said,  "must  not  meet  together  again  in  one  room.  I 
should  like  to  see  the  infantry  officers  at  the  club  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning.  Bonvalet,  Gorin,  and  Gerardt, 
perhaps  you  will  call  at  my  quarters  to-night  between 
eight  and  nine.  Monseigneur,  I  am  ready." 


Chapter  VIII 


The  Prince's  brougham  stood  waiting  at  the  gates. 
But  their  next  place  of  call  was  evidently  too  near  for 
driving.  Merely  ordering  the  coachman  to  follow  them, 
Brisson  led  his  companion  out  into  the  Boulevard  de 
Crenelle,  and  stopped  before  a  lofty  block  half-way  down 
that  thoroughfare. 

The  aspect  of  the  place  was  not  inviting.  The  hall, 
especially,  told  of  jerry-builders  and  grasping  landlords 
and  tenants  belonging  to  the  lower  bourgeoisie,  who  did 
not  care  for  elegance.  The  very  atmosphere  was  rigor- 
ous "  unsuperfluity. "  Only  the  most  genuine  solidity  of 
structure  could  compensate  for  such  pervading  baldness. 
But  one  felt  instinctively  that  the  place  was  as  flimsy  as 
it  was  unadorned.  Nor  did  its  character  alter  as  they 
mounted  the  stairs.  The  walls,  mottled  to  represent 
marble,  though  free  from  dust,  and  scrupulously  clean  to 
the  touch,  had  here  and  there  great  grimy  patches,  show- 
ing where  the  damp  of  less  clement  days  had  trickled 
through.  Iron  wire  globes  guarded  the  gas-jets  on  the 
various  landings:  the  banisters  were  of  the  same  metal, 
and  somewhat  worn.  They  came  to  a  standstill  on  the 
second  floor,  opposite  a  door  which  displayed  immedi- 
ately beneath  its  knocker  a  small  white  card  bearing  the 
inscription,  "M.  AnatoleGodefroy.  Theatrical  Printer. " 
With  his  hand  raised  to  tap,  Brisson  turned  and  whispered 
to  Napoleon: 

"You  observe,  we  shall  have  to  trust  one  man  out- 
side the  garrison.  Old  Godefroy  is  a  stanch  Bona- 
partist,  and  absolutely  safe." 

Having  given  this  explanation,  he  rapped.  The  door 
was  opened  almost  immediately  by  a  cheerless  female, 
half-servant,  half-housekeeper,  who  conducted  them  to 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  123 

the  sitting-room  without  comment,  and  then  went  off  in 
search  of  her  master. 

Napoleon's  mind  was  not  too  busy  to  take  in  the 
features  of  the  apartment.  These  weren't  numerous. 
The  walls  were  littered  with  playbills  old  and  new,  the 
latter  variety  predominating.  The  clouded  mirror  that 
extended  the  length  of  the  mantelpiece  and  went  up  to 
the  ceiling  was  stuck  with  photographs  of  theatrical  cele- 
brities, most  of  whom  had  enhanced  the  value  of  these 
presentments  by  autographs  and  dedications  couched  in 
friendly  terms:  the  majority  being  "To  my  dear  Gode- 
froy  "  from  the  affectionate,  sometimes  even  grateful, 
donor.  Apart  from  these  meagre  ornaments,  however, 
the  room  fulfilled  the  promise  of  the  stairs.  The  furni- 
ture was  scanty,  and,  what  there  was  of  it,  ponderous. 
The  wall-paper,  so  far  as  the  posters  permitted  one  to  see, 
vied  in  ugliness  with  the  mottled  marble  outside.  The 
carpet  was  mainly  linoleum,  and  linoleum,  too,  of  an 
attenuated  kind.  In  short,  the  place  displayed  itself  to 
Napoleon's  eyes  as  scrupulously  clean,  but  totally  devoid 
of  either  comfort  or  beauty;  and  a  second  look  at  the 
photographs  over  the  fireplace  showed  that  they,  too,  had 
taken  a  tone  from  the  surrounding  gloom,  and  imported 
rigid  lines  not  possessed  by  the  various  sitters. 

Presently  the  door  swung  slowly  open.  Nothing 
appeared.  Nothing  appeared  for  full  three  minutes ;  then 
amid  a  deal  of  wheezing  and  creaking  the  owner  of  this 
forbidding  abode  slowly  emerged  into  view. 

The  gentleman  in  question  was  phenomenally  fat.  His 
face  was  phenomenally  red;  his  eyes  phenomenally  small. 
Good  living,  good  nature,  acuteness,  contentment, — all 
these  virtues  shone  forth  from  his  refulgent  countenance. 
For  the  rest,  he  wore  bulky  trousers  and  a  black  alpaca 
coat,  which  presumably  kept  him  cool,  though  it  did  n't 
look  like  it. 

"Good-day,  Godefroy, "  the  Colonel  commenced. 
"You  got  my  message,  I  suppose?  " 

"I  did,"  replied  Godefroy,  in  the  rich,  hoarse  voice 
which  one  is  apt  to  connect  with  many  meals:  "lam 
quite  at  your  service.  Pray  be  seated,"  and  Godefroy 
fixed  his  keen  little  eyes  on  the  Prince's  face. 


124  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"I  presume  this  is  the  gentleman?"  he  said  after  a 
short  scrutiny. 

"You  are  right,"  Brisson  replied. 

The  printer  turned  to  his  Highness.  "You  have  been 
a  long  time  coming.  For  my  own  part,  I  began  to  think 
I  should  never  see  you.  I  am  delighted  to  find  that  I 
was  wrong.  Well,  Colonel,  and  what  do  you  propose  to 
do  with  the  young  gentleman,  now  you  have  got  him?  " 

"We  mean  to  make  a  stroke." 

"  Hum." 

"A  very  rapid  one  too;  and  you  will  have  to  help 
us." 

"Hum." 

"In  fact,  the  night  of  the  fifth  is  the  agreed  date. 
We  shall  want  some  proclamations  printed." 

"  I  don't  mind  getting  them  done  for  you." 

"  Four  or  five  thousand?  " 

"  Yes,  I  daresay  I  can  manage  that.  But  I  am  too  old 
to  go  running  about  myself.  I  shan  't  take  any  personal 
part  in  the  coup  d'etat;  so  don't  count  on  me." 

"  My  dear  Godefroy,  certainly  not.  You  will  get  the 
placards  posted,  of  course?  " 

"  On  the  same  night?  " 

"Between  ten  and  eleven." 

"I'll  do  that  much  for  you.  Is  there  going  to  be 
bloodshed?" 

li~Ldo  hope  not,"  Bonaparte  murmured. 

"  Not  if  we  can  help  it,  you  may  be  quite  sure.  Per- 
sonally, I  do  not  anticipate  any  resistance.  The  govern- 
ment are  hardly  likely  to  make  a  stand;  and  certainly 
no  one  else  will.  Paris  will  probably  be  favourable." 

"  The  public  will  be  right  enough,"  Godefroy  assented, 
"provided  you  do  not  make  too  much  noise.  The  thing 
must  be  short  and  sweet.  We  do  not  want  business  or 
the  theatres  interfered  with.  By  the  way,  did  you  say 
the  fifth?  " 

"The  fifth." 

Godefroy  ambled  up  to  the  mantelpiece  and  examined 
a  memorandum  planted  among  the  photographs. 

"What  a  pity!"  he  cried,  "  I  had  almost  forgotten.  I 
am  exceedingly  busy  on  that  night.  There  are  powerful 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  125 

claques  wanted  for  the  new  opera  and  the  Hippodrome. 
Could  you  manage  to  postpone  your  little  affair  till  the 
evening  of  the  sixth?  " 

"  Impossible." 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  put  up  with  it,"  he  grum- 
bled, as  he  returned  to  his  seat;  "but  certainly  your 
business  will  cause  me  a  deal  of  inconvenience.  All  these 
things  seem  to  happen  together.  Make  it  the  fourth!" 

"Out  of  the  question.  Our  arrangements  are  nearly 
all  complete.  It  must  be  the  fifth. " 

"  As  you  please,  as  you  please,"  the  other  responded 
sullenly.  "You  will  leave  a  copy  of  the  manifesto?  " 

"I  will  write  one  out  directly  I  get  home,  and  bring 
it  round  myself  before  noon  to-morrow." 

"  That  must  do,"  still  sullenly.  "  Try  and  write  more 
distinctly;  and  don't  use  both  sides." 

But  good  nature  was  the  rule  with  Godefroy.  He 
thawed  before  very  long,  remarking  with  a  winning  smile: 

"You  won't  make  a  noise  near  the  Opera  House — 
promise  me." 

"  We  will  try  our  utmost  not  to  make  a  noise  any- 
where. " 

"  No  shots  nor  groans  nor  horrors  of  that  kind?  It 
simply  means  ruin  to  the  piece  if  you  do." 

"  Rely  on  me  to  do  my  best. " 

"That's  a  good  fellow.  In  return,  I  will  have  the 
proclamation  put  up  in  my  most  expensive  type.  It 
sha'n't  cost  you  much  more." 

"We  do  not  consider  the  expense." 

"  Ah,  but  the  young  gentleman  will  have  to.  We 
cannot  have  an  extravagant  rule:  things  must  henceforth 
be  done  on  the  cheap.  Remember,  young  gentleman, 
the  country  has  not  too  much  money  to  throw  away." 

"Yes,  yes,  we  shall  see  to  that.  The  third  Empire 
will  alter  many  things." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it:  many  things  need  altering.  Among 
others,  my  office,  I  consider,  ought  to  be  made  a  govern- 
ment appointment.  At  present  I  depend  for  a  living  on 
the  good  will  of  the  various  managers.  What  a  mon- 
strous position  for  a  man  of  my  age!  Why,  to-morrow 
I  might  find  myself  with  my  sole  means  of  livelihood 


126  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

entirely  gone,  compelled  to  quit  so  much  comfort  and  ele- 
gance, " — he  looked  complacently  round  the  room, — 
"  and  dependent  altogether  on  the  charity  of  kind  friends 
like  Colonel  Brisson  here  for  my  daily  bread.  " 

The  poor  fellow  grew  quite  depressed  by  this  melan- 
choly picture,  which  he  had  been  at  such  pains  to  conjure 
up.  He  shook  his  head  sadly  from  side  to  side,  gazing 
now  at  Napoleon,  now  at  Brisson,  for  some  little  re- 
sponsive mark  of  sympathy. 

"You  mustn't  take  such  a  despondent  view,"  said 
the  Colonel.  "  You  have  heaps  of  friends  who  would  be 
only  too  glad  to  help  you  if  the  need  came,  which  it 
never  will.  All  the  managers  in  Paris  swear  by  you. 
Probably  you  are  a  capitalist  by  now.  You  must  have 
saved? " 

"  Not  a  farthing,"  the  other  replied  emphatically. 

"  Never  mind.  Give  us  satisfaction,  and  his  High- 
ness no  doubt  will  find  you  an  independence." 

"I  do  not  desire  an  independence." 

"A  permanent  post?  " 

"That's  more  like  it.  That  is  exactly  what  I  do 
want.  And  when  this  young  gentleman  is  on  the  throne, 
I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  reminding  him." 

"I  trust  I  shall  not  need  reminding." 

"Oh,  they  all  say  that.  In  point  of  fact,  there  is 
nothing  makes  a  man  forget  so  quickly  as  a  throne." 

"  Not  when  he  has  lived  so  long  as  I  have  among  the 
forgotten." 

"I  daresay  you  will  be  much  the  same  as  all  the 
rest." 

Brisson  here  intervened,  making  a  successful  effort  to 
rally  the  old  gentleman  out  of  his  ill  humour. 

"Godefroy, "  he  cried,  "you  are  one  of  the  pillars  of 
the  party.  You  surely  aren't  going  to  turn  crusty  at 
this  time  of  day?  His  Highness  says  he  will  remember, 
and  I  do  n't  for  an  instant  doubt  he  will.  If  he  does  n't, 
you  shall  remind  him;  you  are  likely  to  have  plenty  of 
opportunities  for  so  doing.  We  must  get  on.  Here  is  a 
second  job  for  you.  Upon  the  night  in  question,  we 
want  fifty  strong  and  trustworthy  men,  all  with  power- 
ful voices,  in  each  quarter  of  every  arrondissement.  They 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  127 

should  be  at  their  several  posts  by  nine  of  the  clock, 
and  should  start  at  once  to  patrol  their  districts,  shouting 
for  Napoleon  IV,  and  against  the  Republic." 

Godefroy  kept  nodding  his  head  backwards  and  for- 
wards in  unison  with  Brisson's  words,  something  after 
the  fashion  of  a  toy  China  mandarin. 

"That  means  about  four  thousand  men.  It  is  rather 
a  lot;  especially  side  by  side  with  the  opera  and  the  hip- 
podrome. You  really  could  n't  make  it  the  sixth? " 

"  The  men  are  to  be  had  I  suppose?  " 

"They  are  to  be  had;  but,  all  the  same,  it  will  be  a 
difficult  job  to  get  them." 

"  You  can  draft  some  up  from  the  provinces." 

"  Not  the  same  thing  at  all.  Provincials  are  no  sort 
of  use  in  Paris;  people  spot  them  at  once.  I  will  do  my 
best  with  what  I  have  got;  I  cannot  say  more.  They 
won't  all  be  trustworthy." 

"We  must  risk  that.  Mind,  not  a  soul  is  to  know  a 
word  of  this  until  the  night  of  the  fifth!  Get  your  men 
together,  of  course;  but  tell  them  nothing  before  the 
hour  arrives.  The  same  with  the  bill-posters." 

"You  need  not  waste  time  on  foolish  details,"  re- 
marked Godefroy.  "I  may  not  be  a  colonel  of  En- 
gineers, but  I  am  not  quite  an  idiot  for  all  that." 

"You  must  forgive  me  if  I  am  over-cautious." 

"Oh,  I  forgive  you.  I  offered  the  advice  more  for 
your  own  sake.  You  cannot  have  too  much  time  to 
waste." 

"You  are  right.     Indeed  we  have  not." 

"Then  don't  waste  any  of  it  on  me.  I  know  about 
as  much  of  these  things  as  most  men,  though  I  say  it,  who 
should  n't." 

"  Our  visit  is  sufficient  proof  of  that." 

"Then  we  won't  say  another  word.  You  military 
men  do  get  so  precise  and  minute.  I  suppose  it  is  be- 
cause you  have  mostly  to  deal  with  one  another,  and  the 
majority  of  you  enjoy  weak  intellects." 

Brisson  rose.  "There  is  nothing  more,  I  think.  We 
trust  implicitly  in  you.  You  shall  have  the  manifesto 
before  noon  to-morrow." 

"There   you   are  again!"  and    Godefroy  held  up  a 


128  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

warning  forefinger  which  looked  uncommonly  like  a 
thumb.  "I  have  already  heard  twice  about  that  mani- 
festo, and  made  a  note  of  it.  I  do  n't  want  to  hear  of  it 
a  third  time.  I  shall  send  my  bill  to  the  Elyse"e.  Good- 
day,  gentlemen.  You  will  excuse  my  coming  to  the 
door." 

Colonel  Brisson  saw  Napoleon  to  his  carriage,  and 
there  said  good-bye.  "  I  need  not  trouble  you  further 
to-day,"  he  added.  "I  shall  hope  to  find  you  in  be- 
tween one  and  two  to-morrow.  Go  out  as  little  as  pos- 
sible; and  then  not  on  foot  if  you  can  possibly  avoid  it." 

The  Prince  arrived  home  to  find  Monsieur  Verre  in 
possession  of  his  apartment.  The  ex-Premier  was  pa- 
cing up  and  down  the  library,  his  hat  on  his  head,  and 
evidently  something  equally  weighty  on  his  mind. 

"My  dear  Sadler,"  he  shouted,  directly  he  caught 
sight  of  our  hero,  "I  bring  news  of  great  importance. 
Prince  Felix  Bonaparte  dines  with  us  to-night.  You 
must  be  present.  The  Bonapartes  are  useful  people  to 
know.  Mark  me,  Victor  is  not  destined  to  stay  in  Brus- 
sels much  longer." 

"I  fear  I  cannot  come." 

"Nonsense,  we  won't  hear  of  a  refusal.  The  Prince 
may  take  a  fancy  to  you,  if  you  are  only  as  witty  as  you 
sometimes  can  be.  He  will  possess  sufficient  influence 
to  get  you,  say,  an  under-chamberlainship.  Your  ability 
entitles  you  to  such  an  office;  while  your  likeness  .  .  . 
forgive  me  ...  ha,  ha,"  and  Monsieur  indulged  in  a 
softly  significant  chuckle. 

"  No,  really  I  shall  be  unable  to  accept." 

"  You  must  come,  and  there  's  an  end  of  it.  Au  revoir 
— dinner  at  seven-thirty,  sharp." 

And  in  the  end  Napoleon  went.  Prince  Felix  Bona- 
parte was  an  attraction.  Every  one  knew  the  little  fel- 
low. He  had  won  fame  for  his  unbridled  profligacy, 
which  made  the  capital,  as  he  used  to  say,  the  only  place 
he  could  comfortably  live  in.  It  certainly  rendered  the 
city  possible.  Carache  and  Pontecoulant  knew  his  little 
ways,  so  exempted  him  from  the  effects  of  the  law  pro- 
scribing the  other  members  of  his  family.  They  turned 
his  peccadillos  to  account.  The  official  journals  kept  a 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  129 

discreet  eye  upon  his  intrigues;  detectives  tracked  him 
behind  stage  doors  and  into  more  than  one  cabinet par- 
ticulier.  While  Felix  himself  went  on  his  path  pleasure- 
seeking,  with  a  reckless  cynicism  which  helped  more 
towards  publicity  than  a  whole  universe  of  spies  and  gov- 
ernment organs. 

The  prospect  of  a  meeting  tickled  our  hero  im- 
mensely. The  danger  seemed  inconsiderable.  With  a 
found  Bonaparte  in  their  midst,  the  company  would 
scarcely  be  likely  to  think  of  the  lost  one.  But  the  situa- 
tion proved  far  more  novel  than  he  anticipated.  It  was 
also  less  amusing.  Prince  Felix  had  the  face  of  a  liber- 
tine. His  features  were  bloated  and  puckered,  combining 
into  a  point  which  was  neither  the  eyes  exactly,  nor  the 
mouth,  nor  the  nose,  but  a  little  of  all  three, — a  point,  in 
fact,  which  one  felt  rather  than  actually  saw.  Before  and 
after  dinner  he  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  drawing-room, 
directly  underneath  the  Venetian  glass  chandelier,  and 
gazed  with  bedimmed  eyes  on  an  astonished  world.  In 
the  dining-room  he  had  other  things  to  think  about. 
Every  one  was  on  their  knees  to  him.  The  atmosphere 
seemed  to  breathe  the  word  "  Monseigneur  "  ;  and  more 
than  once  our  Napoleon  turned  sharply,  under  the  im- 
pression that  he  himself  was  being  addressed.  Once  he 
did  this  when  Verre  was  by;  the  ex-Premier  took  half 
his  meaning. 

"Not  yet,  my  friend,"  laughing  and  tapping  the 
young  man  on  the  shoulder.  "We  should  all  like  to 
be  princes;  your  turn  will  come.  But  this  time  I  meant 
his  Highness  yonder." 

It  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  Napoleon  to  see  this 
ungainly  creature  strutting  about  in  borrowed  plumes. 
Perhaps  the  bitterest  pill  of  all  was  the  way  his  hosts 
neglected  him.  Save  for  a  single  hearty  ' '  Hullo,  Sadler !  ' ' 
and  the  remark  about  princes  just  referred  to,  the  hus- 
band took  no  notice  of  the  guest  he  usually  treated  so 
well.  As  for  Madame,  she  gave  our  friend  a  frigid  bow, 
and  nothing  more.  She  had  evidently  heard  of  the  Men- 
dril  fiasco.  Now  Napoleon  had  no  special  regard  for 
this  good  lady;  but  cold  looks  from  any  one  invariably 
upset  him.  So  he  worked  his  way  round  to  where  she 


130  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

was  standing,  and,  calling  her  attention  off  the  porpoise, 
— she  was  gazing  with  rapt  eyes  on  Felix, — ventured 
the  remark  that  it  was  a  brilliant  evening.  Her  rejoinder 
was  civil,  but  totally  devoid  of  cordiality.  Walter,  how- 
ever, persevered. 

"I  appreciate  being  asked  on  such  occasions,"  said 
he,  looking  across  affectionately  at  his  cousin. 

"  My  husband  said  you  would.  For  that  reason  he 
asked  you.  You  Englishmen  are  so  fond  of  notorieties — 
4  lions  '  you  call  them?  " 

"Yes,  but  they  are  rather  exacting  in  England," 
Napoleon  answered  with  a  genial  laugh.  "I  fear  his 
Highness  would  only  be  rated  a  tiger  over  there." 

Madame  bridled.  "He  is  third  in  the  succession, 
and  may  well  be  Emperor.  He  will  be  Emperor, — very 
shortly  too.  I  ought  to  know;  I  have  helped  govern  this 
country." 

"Indeed." 

"  Indeed,  Monsieur  Sadler.  And  then,  my  dear 
friend,  you  English  will  have  to  quit  Egypt." 

"  Madame  is  very  kind.  She  forgets,  perhaps,  that 
I  am  a  Frenchman." 

"Ah,"  Madame  exclaimed  sweetly,  "that  accounts 
for  your  unlucky  attempt  at  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore" 
the  other  day.  They  are  not  over-fond  of  Frenchmen 
there." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  Madame  for  having  reminded  me  of 
an  unpleasant  incident.  I  should  hardly  have  ventured 
here  to-night  had  I  foreseen  what  was  in  store." 

"Oh,"  she  replied,  making  a  great  show  of  indif- 
ference, "  my  husband  asked  you  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment,  without  having  first  obtained  my  permission. 
Naturally,  when  he  told  me,  I  pointed  out  that  you 
would  probably  not  put  in  an  appearance." 

"You  are  extremely  frank,"  cried  our  hero,  now 
blind  with  rage.  "You  affect  to  despise  England, 
Madame.  No  hostess  in  that  benighted  country  ever 
thinks  it  worth  while  to  insult  her  guests." 

"But,  dear  Monsieur,  your  English  ladies  have  more 
effective  ways  of  excluding  undesirable  people." 

"I    sha'n't   give    you     much    trouble    henceforward, 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  131 

Madame.  And  your  wretched  flat  too;  I  have  nearly 
done  with  that." 

"Ah,  my  husband  will  know  how  to  deal  with  any- 
thing of  that  description.  We  have  poli —  lawyers  in 
Paris." 

What  would  have  happened  next  it  is  difficult  to  say, 
for  they  were  commencing  to  attract  general  attention. 
Fortunately,  Monsieur  Verre  intervened  at  this  critical 
juncture.  He  pushed  himself  with  considerable  ostenta- 
tion between  the  combatants,  remarking  in  his  loudest 
and  most  cheerful  tones:  "You  wicked  people,  you  are 
talking  politics.  Come,  dear  Monsieur  Walter,  permit 
me  to  introduce  you  to  his  Highness,"  and  thus  they 
left  Madame  in  sole  possession  of  the  field  of  battle,  and 
blinking  furiously. 

"  Monseigneur, "  Verre  continued  with  a  deal  of  unc- 
tion directly  they  were  under  the  shadow  of  the  great 
man,  "may  I  present  Monsieur  Sadler  to  your  High- 
ness? " 

Prince  Felix  turned  his  dull  eyes  upon  the  new-comer, 
and  surveyed  him  slowly  from  top  to  toe.  Then  his  tiny 
imperial  moved  ever  so  slightly,  his  debased  mouth 
assuming  the  ghost  of  a  smile.  Presently  he  spoke; 
instead  of  a  heavy,  guttural  bass,  such  as  one  would  look 
for  from  this  torpid  mass,  his  tones  were  thin  and  piping 
and  shrill.  The  effect  was  weird  in  the  extreme. 

"Monsieur,"  he  asked  point-blank,  "are  you  an 
adherent  of  Victor's?  " 

"  I  can  hardly  say  that." 

Felix  looked  immensely  pleased.  "You  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  you  are  one  of  those  infatuated  people  who 
deny  the  right  of  the  late  Plon —  Prince  Napoleon?  " 

The  young  man  hesitated.  Verre  whispered:  "You 
are  doing  finely.  Persevere  on  that  tack." 

"  I  confess  I  do  not,  under  present  circumstances, 
regard  Prince  Victor  as  the  rightful  heir." 

"Prince  Louis  is  in  the  same  boat,"  responded  Felix 
promptly.  "From  the  personal  aspect  he  is  even  a 
weaker  candidate  than  his  brother.  Victor  is  bilious; 
he  is  devout.  Last  winter  De  Morin  and  I  had  all  the 
difficulty  in  the  world  to  keep  him  out  of  a  convent." 


132  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  His  religion  might  temper  down  were  he  to  find 
himself  face  to  face  with  the  throne." 

Verre  treated  his  companion  to  a  secret  nudge.  Felix's 
visage  resettled  into  its  native  ugliness. 

"Louis  will  never  be  Emperor,"  said  he  with  convic- 
tion. "He  has  practically  renounced  his  rights.  The 
crown  lies  between  Victor  and  me,  and  Victor  is  almost 
out  of  the  running." 

"  Would  you  like  the  task?  "  Napoleon  asked  bluntly. 
If  this  absurd  creature  saw  no  objection  to  discuss  such 
things  publicly,  he  himself  saw  none  either. 

"It  is  not  a  question  of  liking  or  not  liking,"  said 
Felix  with  great  disdain.  "  An  historic  name,  such  as  we 
three  young  men  inherit,  has  its  responsibilities  as  well 
as  its  pleasures.  Victor  and  Louis  forget  that;  I  do 
not.  The  former  nurses  himself  in  Brussels,  and  is 
supremely  happy.  Louis  has  his  regiment  and  his  con- 
vent in  Siberia,  and  is  contentedly  miserable.  I — but 
come  into  that  recess  yonder;  I  am  tired  of  standing. 
You  are  an  intelligent  young  man,  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
listen  to  you.  Verre,  you  need  n't  come.  Go  across  and 
talk  to  Madame:  she  looks  quite  angry  at  your  long 
neglect." 

When  the  two  cousins  were  comfortably  seated,  Felix 
resumed: 

"I,  alone  of  the  three,  live  on  in  Paris,  braving 
Carache  and  a  thousand  dangers,  having  eyes  and 
thought  for  nothing  but  the  duty  I  owe  France.  I  do 
not  say  that  the  throne  will  be  as  easy  as  the  compara- 
tive privacy  which  I  now  enjoy.  Nevertheless,  I  mean 
to  bear  every  trial  with  extreme  fortitude,  and  make  no 
doubt  I  shall  adorn  my  position. 

"You  surprise  me." 

"I  do  not  understand  why.  As  it  is,  I  am  de  jure 
Emperor:  it  is  but  natural  that  I  should  be  ready  and 
waiting.  Now,  you  might  well  confess  yourself  surprised 
when  you  hear  how  I  work.  I  rise  at  nine,  and  spend 
the  whole  morning  from  nine-thirty  to  eleven  over 
political  history,  constitutional  history,  strategy,  higher 
mathematics,  and  dynamics.  I  do  n't  intend  to  let  Ger- 
man William  do  all  the  lecturing,  as  you  may  suppose. 


THE.  FOURTH   NAPOLEON  133 

I  receive  practical  instruction  in  building  earthworks, 
fortresses,  and  ironclads.  I  know  the  Code  Napoleon 
off  by  heart,  and  mean,  by  and  by,  to  alter  the  part  of 
it  which  deals  with  divorce.  I  can  tackle,  and  usually 
vanquish,  the  most  expert  political  economists  in  Europe. 
In  a  word,  I  am  encyclopaedic.  There  are  not  three 
crown  prices  put  together,  between  here  and  Japan,  who 
know  a  tenth  as  much  as  I  do." 

' '  This  is  good  hearing  for  one  of  your  future  subjects. ' ' 

"  I  imagined  you  would  be  pleased." 

"You  mentioned  strategy,"  pursued  our  hero;  "I 
trust  you  do  not  mean  to  involve  us  in  war  with  Ger- 
many? " 

"Not  the  least  intention,"  the  absurd  creature  an- 
swered promptly.  "We  French  have  no  need  of  Alsace- 
Lorraine.  Why  should  we  bother? — we  can  procure  better 
pate's  from  Perigords.  Here  is  a  secret  for  you,  my 
young  friend,  and  take  care  you  do  n't  breathe  a  word 
to  a  living  soul." 

Felix  bent  forward  so  as  to  bring  his  unwholesome 
mouth  on  a  level  with  Napoleon's  ear. 

"What  I  do  mean  to  have  is  the  kingdom  of  Italy! 
Mind,  there  won't  be  any  fighting.  That  old  ballet- 
dancer  Panani  will  succumb  as  soon  as  he  sees  that  I  am 
in  earnest.  Once  master  of  the  Peninsular,  I  shall  be 
able  to  buy  chianti — a  drink  to  which  I  am  very  partial 
— at  one  third  the  price.  Chianti  and  Italian  produce! 
think  of  it,  my  dear  Monsieur!  But  no  more  on  this 
topic  at  present.  Not  a  word  to  any  one,  not  even  to 
your  mother!  " 

"  My  mother  is  dead,"  the  other  replied  with  impres- 
sive simplicity.  "She" — apropos  of  the  chianti,  per- 
haps, and  the  Italian  produce — "she  was  married  at 
Cremona." 

A  shade  passed  across  the  Prince's  face.  "I  pity 
her,"  he  said,  "the  place  is  a  dustbin,  and  not  fit  for  a 
cat  to  die  in.  To  return  to  my  day!" — brightening  up — 
"  listen  to  this  as  a  sample  of  how  I  work.  At  eleven  I  have 
dejeuner.  You  may  imagine,  I  eat  very  sparingly.  The 
stomach  and  the  brain  are  close  relations;  and  it  is  im- 
perative that  I  should  keep  my  head  clear.  I  begin  on 


134  THE'  FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

an  hors-d'oeuvre, — prawns,  anchovies,  sardines,  or  any- 
thing of  that  sort.  Then  follows  soup,  fish,  a  couple  of 
entrees,  a  wing  of  a  chicken,  some  pastry,  cheese,  and 
dessert.  I  also  drink  a  half-bottle  of  champagne  as  a 
specific  against  influenza,  which,  like  the  poor,  is  always 
with  us.  My  sole  indulgence  is  a  glass  or  so  of  maras- 
chino and  a  couple  of  cigarettes.  After  dejeuner,  I  take 
a  couple  of  hours'  nap.  At  two  I  go  out  for  a  drive  in 
the  Bois.  Four  to  seven,  my  only  quiet  time  in  the  day, 
I  read  the  papers,  and  eat  cakes  to  prevent  an  empty 
stomach.  At  seven  I  have  my  one  good  meal,  after 
which  I  feel  I  can  fairly  devote  the  remaining  hours  of 
the  twenty-four  to  my  own  pleasure.  I  usually  visit  the 
opera  or  spend  an  evening  at  a  friend's  house.  At  mid- 
night I  have  supper.  It  is  an  arduous  life,  I  confess; 
but,  as  I  said  before,  men  situated  as  I  am  have  respon- 
sibilities no  less  than  advantages.  I  am  bound  to  be 
ready  for  the  day." 

"When  do  you  think  it  will  be  here?  "  Napoleon  in- 
quired. 

"  I  cannot  give  any  exact  date, — one  not  far  distant, 
of  that  you  may  be  sure.  Carache  says  six  months;  I 
say  three.  We  have  got  a  bet  on  it.  If  he  is  right,  and 
I  begin  my  reign  six  months  from  now,  he  is  to  be  my 
Prime  Minister  for  six  years  from  the  date  of  commence- 
ment. If  wrong,  then  he  will  only  get  the  job  for  half 
that  period,  after  which  I  am  to  choose  whom  I  like. 
And  furthermore,  in  the  latter  case,  he  is  to  pay  me  two 
thirds  of  what  he  makes  over  and  above  his  salary.  He 
is  such  an  amusing  dog — that  Carache." 

Napoleon  was  dumbfounded  at  this  frank  confession. 
He  looked  quickly  up,  half  expecting  to  see  a  smile 
hovering  round  the  other's  mouth.  But  Felix  main- 
tained an  absolutely  grave  demeanour. 

"  I  suppose  Carache  helps  you?"  asked  the  former 
with  failing  heart.  He  felt  powerless  to  fight  against  a 
combination  which  included  the  Prime  Minister. 

"Help  me! — to  do  what,  pray?  I  don't  want  any 
help." 

"But  surely  you  are  working — laying  the  ground  for  a 
Restoration — a  coup  d'etat,  or  something  of  that  sort?  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  135 

"  A  coup  d'etat!  Good  heavens!  you  do  n't  imagine 
I  am  going  in  for  that  kind  of  antiquated  bosh?  I  am 
always  in  Paris.  And  when  the  day  comes  that  the  na- 
tion declares  for  Imperialism,  I  shall  send  a  reply-tele- 
gram to  Brussels;  give^  Victor  an  hour  to  decide;  and 
then  take  a  cab  to  the  Elysee. " 

"  Your  Highness  does  not  mean  to  leave  the  President 
much  time  in  which  to  pack." 

"My  dear  friend,  he  won't  need  it.  His  things  are 
packed  already.  I  assure  you,  he  is  reduced  to  the  dis- 
agreeable necessity  of  taking  shirts  and  collars  from  his 
portmanteau  as  he  wants  them.  I  like  you,"  he  went  on 
with  that  frankness  princes  alone  may  use;  "  I  shall  hope 
to  see  you  at  the  Elyse"e. "  He  shuffled  his  swallow-tails 
and  pulled  forth  a  note-book  bound  in  crocodile  and 
edged  with  beaten  bronze. 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  resumed,  reading  therefrom, 
"Grand  Chamberlain,  the  Count  de  Morin;  Comptroller 
of  the  Privy  purse,  Monsieur  Hadamard;  Premier, 
Carache.  Vice-Chamberlain — yes,  I  can  manage  an  un- 
der-chamberlainship  for  you.  What  do  you  say?  " 

Napoleon  was  far  too  overcome  by  this  sign  of  De 
Morin's  perfidy  to  make  any  direct  reply.  "  Who  did 
you  say  was  to  be  Grand  Chamberlain?  "  he  faltered. 

"The  Count  de  Morin." 

"Ah,  I  am  acquainted  with  him." 

"A  venerable  old  man,  but  also  somewhat  of  a  nui- 
sance. It  was  his  duty,  you  may  perhaps  remember,  to 
drown  that  Capelli-Bonaparte  brat.  He  performed  the 
task  most  punctually,  as  I  have  good  reason  to  know. 
Yet  the  old  wretch  now  declares  that  the  insect  is  alive; 
and,  the  other  night,  he  paraded  an  impostor  at  a  meet — 
but  I  have  no  patience  with  him.  How  much  will  you 
give  for  that  under-chamberlainship?  There  will  be 
pickings." 

"  I  am  not  rich." 

"  I  daresay  you  could  manage  a  thousand  or  so. 
Sleep  on  it." 

Madame  Verre  came  rustling  up. 

"  Really,  Monsieur  Sadler,"  she  exclaimed,  all  smiles, 
"  we  cannot  have  you  monopolizing  his  Highness  in  this 


136  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

way.     Monseigneur,  I  still  have   numbers  of  people  to 
present  to  you." 

"Bother!"  muttered  the  crazy  fellow.  "We  were 
happy  enough  in  this  corner.  Mind,  Monsieur,  you  are 
to  come  and  see  me.  By  the  way, "  he  whispered,  "I 
should  have  told  you.  I  am  not  going  to  take  the  title 
of  Felix — too  Eastern,  you  know.  The  good  old  name 
will  do  for  me.  The  Emperor  Napoleon  IV,  that 's  my 
future  description.  Good-night,  Monsieur.  I  shall  ex- 
pect you  to  make  it  two  thousand  francs.  The  job  is 
cheap  at  the  money." 


Chapter   IX 


July  the  5th  came  at  last,  dawning  cloudless  and 
brilliant.  Napoleon,  who  had  spent  the  night  in  a  fever 
of  wakefulness,  could  not  have  welcomed  victory  more. 
He  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  after  a  hurried  toilet,  de- 
scended into  the  street. 

But  no  amount  of  fresh  air  could  dissipate  the  fears 
which  haunted  his  brain.  The  memory  of  '51  swam 
scarlet  before  his  eyes.  He  had  no  desire  to  wade 
through  blood.  Notwithstanding  the  inordinate  thirst 
for  fame  which  still  survived  the  glories  of  the  Rue  de 
Berlin,  the  thought  that  the  search  for  it  might  mean 
death  t'o  many  quite  appalled  him.  Strangely,  too,  there 
arose  a  shrinking  dread  of  notoriety.  How  different  it 
looked,  now  it  was  imminent,  this  prominence  he  had 
once  desired  so  fiercely.  The  antipathy  grew  with  the 
day,  until,  when  it  was  time  to  seek  Brisson's  barracks, 
he  would  have  given  much  to  stay  at  home  and  spend 
a  cosy  evening  reading  in  bed,  the  electric  light  conve- 
niently above  him,  his  face  turned  towards  the  wall. 

Four  of  the  clock  was  the  hour  appointed  to  cross 
the  Rubicon — or  rather  the  threshold  of  the  Colonel's 
quarters.  The  latter  had  not  yet  returned.  A  servant 
conducted  our  hero  into  the  library.  Newspapers  littered 
the  table ;  but  any  other  token  of  a  regard  for  higher  things 
was  conspicuously  absent.  The  book-cases  were  an  arid 
waste.  A  posthumous  work  on  "  Street-Fighting, "  by 
De  Morny,  proved  the  sole  oasis  in  this  intellectual 
wilderness.  It  lay  open,  face  downwards,  on  the  arm  of 
a  chair;  Napoleon  glanced  at  the  title  and  turned  away 
in  disgust. 

The  room  contained  two  doors  beside  the  one  by 
which  he  had  entered.  His  listless  mood  tempted  him 

i37 


138  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

to  examine  both.  One  was  locked.  The  other  opened 
into  a  bedroom.  The  bed  looked  particularly  cool  and 
inviting.  Without  a  second  thought  to  his  boots,  or  his 
position  as  a  guest,  he  flung  himself  down  and  gazed 
onto  the  ceiling.  He  was  a  man  who  met  all  his  difficul- 
ties upon  his  back. 

He  may  have  lain  two  hours,  and  would  no  doubt 
have  continued  another  two,  had  not  the  pangs  of  hun- 
ger driven  him  back  into  the  library.  The  servant  was 
busy  setting  the  table  for  dinner.  The  whole  thing  be- 
gan to  resemble  a  page  out  of  the  Arabian  Nights.  For 
a  few  minutes  neither  man  spoke  a  word. 

Napoleon  broke  silence  first. 

"What  time  is  it?  "  he  asked,  forgetting  his  watch. 

"Ten  past  seven,  Monsieur,"  without  looking  up. 

"  Has  the  Colonel  returned?  " 

"No,  Monsieur." 

The  Prince  began  to  feel  uneasy.  "  He  will  dine 
with  me?  " 

"  My  orders  are  to  lay  for  Monsieur  alone." 

"It  is  very  curious,"  was  the  muttered  rejoinder. 
"Did  Colonel  Brisson  leave  no  message  for  me?" 

"No." 

"  Nor  mention  at  what  hour  he  would  return?  " 

"No.      Monsieur  is  served. " 

Bonaparte  desisted  from  further  questions,  suddenly 
recalling  to  mind  that  he  and  this  precise  orderly  had  met 
before.  He  went  through  his  dinner,  then  lit  a  cigarette. 
No  one  came,  until  he  began  to  fancy  that  his  present 
isolation  was  to  be  like  chloroform,  ending  only  when 
the  whole  trouble  was  over.  Nor  was  it  unwelcome  in 
such  a  guise.  Our  hero  suddenly  meditated  a  return  to 
bed.  With  his  head  buried  among  the  pillows,  he  might 
reasonably  hope  to  escape  the  noise  of  battle.  He  was 
rising  slowly  to  put  this  plan  into  execution,  or  at  all 
events  to  reconsider  it  nearer  the  door,  when  the  ser- 
vant brought  word  that  Brisson  was  at  length  returned 
to  barracks  and  would  be  with  Monsieur  almost  immedi- 
ately. The  Prince's  only  answer  was  an  additional  glass 
of  wine.  Ordinarily  abstemious,  he  had  tossed  off  a 
good  many  to-night.  The  last,  as  always  happens, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  139 

proved  the  most  potent.  His  whole  body  became  as 
calm  and  inflexible  as  death;  his  mind  ready  to  face 
and  beat  back  the  worst.  It  was  marvellous;  and  as  he 
stood  with  arms  folded  and  squared  shoulders  awaiting 
the  Colonel  in  the  centre  of  the  floor,  he  seemed  to  be 
conscious  of  this  himself.  To  employ  a  homely  picture, 
he  had  tight  hold  of  the  elbows  of  his  chair. 

Brisson,  however,  came  in  smiling,  so  Napoleon's 
shoulders  fell  back  insensibly  into  their  original  drooping 
position. 

"  My  dear  Brisson,"  said  he,  "  where  in  the  world 
have  you  been?  This  room  is  pleasant  enough,  but  four 
hours  in  it,  without  a  soul  to  talk  to,  is  more  than  even 
I  can  stand. " 

"I  must  ask  Monseigneur  to  forgive  me.  At  least, 
my  afternoon  has  been  spent  in  his  service." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that.  Still,  you  might  have  left  me 
something  to  read." 

"There  were  the  newspapers,"  replied  Brisson,  glan- 
cing round  the  room,  "and  De  Morny's  book.  I  felt 
sure  the  latter  would  amuse  you." 

"Quite  the  contrary.  Tell  me,  are  matters  going 
satisfactorily?  " 

"Yes,  so  far.  I  got  rather  a  fright,  though,  this 
morning.  Bonvalet  came  rushing  round  here  with  a 
cock-and-bull  story  that  Mesnil  was  in  Paris.  There  is 
no  truth  in  it,  I  am  glad  to  say.  I  have  telegraphed 
to  Lille,  and  have  received  a  reply  from  the  little  fellow 
himself.  He  has  not  been  in  town  this  year,  so  he  de- 
clares, and  hopes  not  to  be.  The  government  clearly 
can  suspect  nothing." 

"And  Clisserole,  what  about  him?  " 

Brisson  became  quite  gleeful.  "He  has  gone  sud- 
denly to  Royat  to  take  the  waters.  Changarnier  sent  me 
word  last  night.  Your  Highness  will  have  to  bear  the 
latter  in  mind  when  the  time  comes.  It  is  a  great  tri- 
umph. Not  counting  Changarnier  himself,  Breheville  is 
now  the  senior  officer  left  in  Paris.  We  must  be  moving. " 

"  I  am  ready." 

"  One  word  before  we  go.  The  part  which  your  High- 
ness will  be  called  upon  to  play  in  to-night's  proceedings 


HO  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

is  small.  I  propose  that  you  should  say  a  few  prelim- 
inary words  of  encouragement  to  my  officers,  and  then 
return  to  this  room  and  await  events  in  safety.  Bonva- 
let  will  remain  on  guard  below.  Directly  we  are  ready 
for  you — it  cannot  be  much  before  midnight — he  shall 
receive  word  to  bring  your  Highness  to  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde.  On  the  other  hand,  if  we  are  beaten — " 

"Which  heaven  avert!  "  muttered  Bonaparte. 

"If  we  are  beaten,  he  has  orders  to  call  in  Major 
Gorin  and  to  escort  you  with  his  full  strength  to  the 
Gare  de  1'Est,  where  a  special  train  will  be  waiting  to 
carry  you  into  North  Germany.  May  I  add  a  single 
other  word  of  advice?  " 

"Certainly." 

"  Monseigneur  has  appointed  me  to  the  chief  com- 
mand; and  whether  this  arrangement  turns  out  right  or 
wrong,  it  is  the  best  I  can  devise.  One  thing  is  sure,  it 
cannot  possibly  succeed  unless  all  concerned — from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest — do  their  allotted  task  with  scrupu- 
lous fidelity.  Your  Highness  will  bear  this  in  mind. 
Your  task  is  small,  but  it  must  be  performed  faithfully 
and  correctly.  You  ought  not  to  budge  from  this  room 
until  you  are  sent  for;  and — and — " 

"Well,  my  good  Brisson?" 

"  This  is  the  most  difficult  part  of  all.  When  need 
arises  for  you  to  show  yourself  in  public, — now,  at  once, 
in  the  messroom,  later  on  in  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, — 
remember  this  before  everything  else:  The  eyes  of  all 
present  will  be  turned  upon  your  face.  Be  careful,  I 
pray  you,  that  it  shows  no  sign  of  fea — ,  nervousness. 
Calmness  and  self-possession  will  stand  you  in  the  stead 
of  a  dozen  regiments,  take  my  word  for  it." 

"  I  know,  I  know." 

"I  am  bound  to  mention  it,"  persisted  the  blunt, 
outspoken  Brisson.  "  The  thing  would  be  different,  did 
you  possess  some  experience  in  these  matters.  You  have 
none." 

"  Calmness  does  not  come  with  experience,"  retorted 
Napoleon  with  an  air  of  profound  wisdom. 

"  But  you  will  remember  my  warning?  " 

"Yes,  I  will  remember  it.     Lead  the  way." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  141 

The  officers  of  the  regiment,  with  Br^heville,  Bon- 
valet,  and  one  or  two  more  from  outside,  stood  about 
the  messroom  awaiting  their  arrival.  A  deep  silence 
hovered  over  all,  a  silence  which  was  neither  broken  nor 
intensified  when  Napoleon  entered.  The  gravity  of  the 
occasion  bore  its  presentment  on  every  face.  Bre"heville 
had  lost  his  simper.  The  purple  Bonvalet  looked  more 
like  a  damped  furnace  than  a  colonel  of  Cuirassiers. 

"Welcome,  your  Highness,"  said  the  former  of  the 
two.  A  faint  murmur  traversed  the  length  of  the 
room. 

At  that  very  moment,  as  if  to  heighten  the  effect,  the 
jar  of  the  barrack  gates  swinging  open  floated  through 
the  summer  night.  Presently  they  could  hear  the  clat- 
ter of  cavalry  in  the  barrack  square. 

"My  men,"  muttered  Bonvalet.  He  stood  behind 
Bre"heville,  near  the  door. 

"Do  they  know?"  asked  Colonel  Brisson. 

"No,"  replied  Bonvalet.  "They  were  simply  told 
that  they  would  be  paraded  with  your  Engineers  at  nine 
o'clock.  Good;  Gorin  is  five  minutes  before  his  time." 

"And  your  men,  Brisson?  "  put  in  General  Breheville. 

"They  will  be  told  at  nine  o'clock,  like  all  the  rest. 
The  only  thing  is,  he  went  on  dubitatively,  "who  is  to 
tell  them?  Bonvalet  understands  his  men,  and  I  under- 
stand mine.  But  you  are  senior  to  both  of  us.  Perhaps 
you  will  address  them?  " 

"I  have  no  objection,"  said  Breheville,  glancing  at 
Napoleon. 

"But  surely,"  interposed  Bonvalet  in  a  voice  that 
was  a  cheerful  change  after  such  a  surfeit  of  subdued 
tones,  "that  is  a  task  for  his  Highness  and  for  no  one 
else!" 

"I  should  have  thought  so  too,"  murmured  another 
officer. 

"  But  the  men  may  prove  hostile,"  hesitated  Brisson. 

"They  most  certainly  will,  if  they  know  that  the 
Prince  is  lurking  in  here  and  daren't  face  them,"  re- 
marked Bonvalet,  bluntly. 

"We  ought  not  to  let  him  run  any  risks." 

"We  all  have  to  run  some  risk." 


142  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"But  his  life  and  liberty  are  of  such  vital  impor- 
tance." 

"  He  stands  to  win  the  most,  if  that 's  what  you 
mean." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  decide,"  returned  Brisson. 

"It  is  n't  for  you  to  decide  at  all.  It  is  for  his  High- 
ness. Monseigneur,  what  do  you  say?  " 

Napoleon  wavered  and  looked  at  Brisson ;  but  the 
Colonel's  face  showed  utter  perplexity  and  nothing  more. 
To  tell  the  truth,  this  direct  appeal  to  himself  took  the 
Prince  somewhat  by  surprise.  It  came  upon  him  when 
he  was  vacantly  noting  the  distinction  of  his  morning 
clothes  among  so  many  uniforms.  From  Brisson's  coun- 
tenance his  eyes  moved  round  the  room.  Every  one 
present  appeared  to  be  awaiting  his  choice  with  great 
anxiety,  and  this  made  the  task  all  the  more  difficult. 

Nor  was  he  permitted  any  lengthened  period  for  de- 
liberation. An  officer  entered  with  news  that  the  troops 
were  drawn  up  and  waiting. 

"  We  are  coming,"  said  Brisson. 

"Well,  your  Highness?"  said  Bonvalet. 

Napoleon  made  a  second  circuit  of  the  room  for  in- 
spiration, with  identical  results. 

"I  really  do  not  know  how  to  answer  you,"  he  fal- 
tered. "  Brisson's  view  has  much  to  commend — "  The 
look  of  consternation,  unveiled  and  ample,  dawning  on 
Bonvalet's  face  gave  him  pause  in  the  midst  of  his  sen- 
tence. 

"We  have  no  time  to  spare,"  urged  General  Brehe- 
ville. 

"We  are  waiting  for  his  Highness,"  Bonvalet  said 
stonily. 

"You  must  make  up  your  mind,"  from  Brisson. 

Napoleon  shut  his  eyes  tight  and  drew  a  long  breath. 
"I  will  address  them,"  he  cried.  "I  am  ready, " — a 
sigh  of  relief  rose  from  all  sides. 

"  That 's  right, "  cried  the  Cuirassier.  "  Lead  off,  Bris- 
son. You  are  at  home  here,  you  must  remember;  and 
we  aren't." 

The  Colonel  at  once  resumed  his  usual  business-like 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  143 

demeanour,  issuing  orders  right  and  left  in  a  monotonous 
tone  of  command. 

"  Commandant  Kendall  and  Lieutenant  Mascaut,  with 
Major  Gorin  of  Cuirassiers,  will  remain  in  the  messroom. 
Should  they  hear  from  me  that  the  regiments  are  unfa- 
vourable, they  will  come  and  assume  command  in  the 
Republican  interest."  The  officers  named  withdrew  to 
a  corner  of  the  room,  evidently  comprehending  the  un- 
spoken part  of  their  instructions.  Brisson  had  not  quite 
done  with  them,  however. 

"If  all  goes  well,"  he  continued,  "  Rendall,  you  are 
to  join  the  regiment.  Major  Gorin  has  his  orders,  I  be- 
lieve. Lieutenant  Mascaut  remains  in  attendance  upon 
his  Highness.  Now,  gentlemen, ' ' — turning  to  the  others, 
— "  to  your  places,  if  you  please.  His  Highness  follows 
presently." 

"Wait,"  interposed  General  Bre"heville,  as  the  subor- 
dinate officers  commenced  to  file  out;  "  Monseigneur 
means  to  address  us  first." 

"There  is  no  time,"  from  Bon  valet.  "The  speech- 
making  must  be  done  outside." 

Bre"heville  showed  some  disposition  to  contest  this  curt 
objection,  but  Bonvalet  waved  his  hand  brusquely  towards 
the  door,  and  the  Indian  file  which  had  stopped  for  an 
instant  went  on  again.  In  a  few  minutes  only  the  four 
of  them  were  left — Napoleon  and  Brisson,  General 
Breheville,  and  the  colonel  of  Cuirassiers. 

They  stood  for  an  instant  without  advancing,  round 
the  open  door.  Brisson  looked  inquiringly  at  his  com- 
panions; they  at  one  another;  then  the  former  set  out  to 
lead  the  way.  The  Prince  went  second:  Bonvalet  and 
Breheville,  side  by  side,  brought  up  the  rear.  Horses 
awaited  them  below.  They  mounted  in  silence;  and, 
keeping  to  the  same  order,  rode  slowly  forward  through 
the  inner  yard. 

It  was  a  striking  sight.  These  sombre  horsemen  ad- 
vancing slowly  and  without  so  much  as  a  whisper  on  such 
an  errand.  Here  and  there  a  gas-lamp  shed  its  fitful 
glare  upon  them  as  they  passed.  Above,  the  vault  of 
heaven,  patched  with  many  different  hues  of  darkness, 


H4  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

and  gemmed  with  a  myriad  stars.  And  everywhere  a 
wondrous  stillness,  deepened  by  the  deadened  roar  of  life 
that  flowed  outside,  and  broken  only  by  the  clang  of  their 
horses'  hoofs  upon  the  flags,  or  an  occasional  sharp  word 
of  command,  which  grew  scarcer  as  they  approached  the 
outer  square. 

Brisson  took  a  sudden  turn  and  disappeared  through 
a  low-roofed  archway,  the  walls  of  which  were  so  narrow 
they  appeared  to  Napoleon  to  scrape  the  worthy  Colonel's 
knees.  He  himself  hardly  dared  follow.  "  Straight  on," 
whispered  Bonvalet  from  behind.  The  Prince  obeyed. 
He  pushed  forward,  bending  his  head,  though  there  was 
no  need,  and  tightening  both  legs  against  his  horse's 
belly.  A  minute  later,  he  was  in  the  barrack  square  and 
face  to  face  with  the  Praetorian  Guard. 

Brisson  reined  to  one  side  to  let  him  pass.  In  this 
new  order  the  cavalcade  advanced, — Napoleon  leading. 

The  tension  of  the  last  few  hours  had  reduced  him  to 
a  state  of  drowsy  indifference  akin  to  the  calmness  of 
despair.  He  looked  listlessly  in  front  of  him.  What  he 
saw — those  two  black,  shadowy  masses,  separated  only  a 
little  from  one  another,  each  so  silent  and  so  menacing — 
left  him  totally  unmoved.  The  whole  thing  might  have 
been  a  dream. 

The  two  regiments,  drawn  up  at  right  angles  to  one 
another,  formed  the  farther  sides  of  a  square,  towards  the 
centre  of  which  Bonaparte  and  his  companions  were  now 
slowly  moving.  The  Cuirassiers,  sitting  cloaked  and  mo- 
tionless upon  their  horses,  looked  more  like  statues. 
Their  greater  height  attracted  his  idle  gaze  and  kept  it, 
although  he  was  soonest  under  the  shadow  of  Brisson's 
Engineers.  Presently  they  were  well  within  the  two  con- 
verging lines,  and  a  fixed  shape  settled  down  over  the  de- 
tails of  the  picture.  The  infantry,  upon  their  left,  stood 
like  a  solid  wall.  No  order  to  salute  had  been  given. 
The  men's  white  faces  went  in  and  out  of  shadows  under 
the  flickering  lights,  being  thrown,  when  lit  up,  into 
ghostly  relief  against  their  sombre  uniforms.  Not  that 
Napoleon  noticed  them,  having  eyes  alone  for  Bonvalet's 
horse  in  front.  He  watched  the  faces,  half  hidden  though 
they  were  by  the  peaks  of  their  shining  helmets.  He 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  145 

marvelled  how  the  men  could  sit  so  still;  all  the  more, 
as  here  and  there  a  restive  steed  would  start  to  paw  the 
ground,  or  to  shake  its  head  violently  with  every  piece  of 
brass  upon  its  bridle. 

Nearer  and  nearer  he  approached,  not  knowing  when 
to  stop,  nor  greatly  caring.  Brisson  spurred  abreast  of 
him  to  lay  his  hand  upon  his  wrist. 

"Halt,"  he  murmured;  "this  is  far  enough.  Be 
brave !  " 

It  seemed  to  the  Prince  that  the  speaker,  and  not  he, 
was  most  in  need  of  the  admonition.  In  after  days  he 
used  to  declare  that  he  heard  Brisson's  heart  beating 
with  absolute  distinctness,  while  he  himself,  as  he  main- 
tained, remained  devoid  of  all  emotion,  whether  of  fear 
or  excitement. 

"What  must  I  do  now?"  he  asked  indifferently. 
Brisson  glanced  back  over  his  shoulder.  "  Bonvalet, 
Bre"heville, "  was  all  he  said.  Then,  motioning  Napoleon 
to  stay  where  he  was,  himself  advanced  another  ten 
paces  or  so  towards  the  frontmost  lines.  Bonvalet  and 
Breheville,  meanwhile,  brought  their  horses'  heads  to  a 
level  with  the  Prince's  boots.  He  could  hear  them 
loosening  their  swords,  and  his  mind,  prolific  of  incon- 
sequent fancies,  straightway  instituted  the  comparison 
between  himself  and  a  magistrate  about  to  read  the  riot 
act. 

"Soldiers!"  began  Brisson  in  tones  that  rang  out 
sharp  and  clear. 

It  was  the  first  sound  to  break  the  terrible  stillness. 
A  faint  rustle  of  curiosity  passed  along  the  ranks,  like 
the  soughing  of  the  wind,  leaving  breathless  attention 
behind. 

"Soldiers!  Prince  Louis  Napoleon — the  lost  Bona- 
parte— has  come  to  Paris!  " 

No  sound  greeted  this  announcement.  No  sound  ex- 
cept Bonvalet  still  loosening  his  sword, — "My  God!" 
the  latter  muttered,  "our  good  friend  does  not  mince 
matters." 

"  The  Prince  has  come, "  continued  Brisson.  "  Listen, 
my  comrades.  I  will  tell  you  why  he  has  come  so 
late." 


146  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

The  Colonel  thereupon  proceeded  to  give  the  brief 
outlines  of  Napoleon's  story.  The  greater  part  of  it — 
the  Capelli  marriage  of  1789,  the  wishes  of  the  great 
Emperor,  the  history  of  the  Capelli-Bonapartes  down  to 
the  death  of  our  hero's  father,  and  his  mother's  flight  to 
England — he  treated  as  too  well  known,  as  in  truth  it 
was,  to  need  much  repetition,  dwelling  instead  with 
greater  detail  on  the  Prince's  English  existence,  his 
ignorance  of  his  lineage,  and  his  strange  return  to 
Paris. 

The  entire  narrative  hardly  lasted  five  minutes.  At 
the  end  of  it  Brisson  paused  for  some  sign  from  those 
terribly  silent  auditors  of  his. 

But  no  sign  came. 

"The  Prince,"  he  went  on,  no  trace  of  despair  in  his 
voice,  "having  learned  about  his  birthright,  immediately 
resolved  upon  its  recovery.  But  how?  that  was  the 
question.  The  Count  de  Morin  took  him  to  a  meeting 
of  the  Bonapartist  party.  They  accepted  his  identity 
without  a  murmur.  They  were  overjoyed  to  see  him. 
They  voted  a  handsome  allowance;  but  they  would  not 
lift  a  little  finger  to  put  him  on  the  throne.  It  was  at 
this  moment  that  he  fell  in  with  some  of  us  of  the 
army, — Generals  Changarnier  and  Breheville,  Brigadier 
Marchmont,  Colonel  Bonvalet,  and  myself." 

"That  ought  to  fetch  'em,"  groaned  the  penultimate 
warrior  in  Brisson's  list.  "Curse  them,  the  dogs,  why 
do  n't  they  cheer?  " 

They  gave  no  reasons;  but  they  did  n't. 

"We  felt  certain  that  the  army  would  accord  him  an 
unanimous  welcome.  We  told  him  so.  Were  we — " 
but  the  silence  was  too  appalling.  He  dare  not  put  such 
a  direct  question  at  that  juncture. 

"We  told  him  so,  and  he  believed  us.  He  determined 
to  place  himself  unreservedly  in  our  hands.  And  we — 
we  resolved  upon  almost  immediate  action.  Mind,  I  am 
speaking  of  what  occurred  only  eight  days  back:  you 
will  admit  we  have  not  dawdled.  The  first,  indeed  the 
only,  step  was  to  give  you  his  story  and  invite  your  aid. 
At  this  identical  moment  three  fourths  of  the  Paris  gar- 
rison are  learning  these  matters,  as  you  have  just  learnt 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  147 

them,  and  are  being  asked  to  declare  in  his  favour.  Aye, 
and  more  than  that.  They  are  being  asked  to  march 
out  forthwith  and  help  overthrow  the  Republic.  We  do 
not  anticipate  for  a  single  instant  that  they  will  refuse. 
Nor  that  you  will,  either.  If  we  did,  do  you  imagine  we 
should  come  thus  and  ask  you  point-blank  to  draw  your 
swords  on  his  behalf?  Should  we  not  rather  spend  months 
in  preliminary  plotting,  getting  hold  first  of  this  man, 
then  of  that,  trying  to  leaven  the  lump  only  by  degrees? 
We  have  attempted  nothing  of  the  kind.  Let  me  repeat. 
The  Prince  has  been  barely  a  month  in  France.  But 
eight  days  have  elapsed  since  he,  acting  on  our  advice, 
made  up  his  mind  to  rely  solely  upon  the  army.  And 
here  we  are  inviting  you  to  co-operate  in  a  coup  d'etat 
which  is  to  begin  at  once.  This  does  not  look  as  though 
we  had  left  any  room  in  our  calculations  for  your  refusal. 
The  other  regiments  won't  refuse,  you  may  be  sure  of 
that.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  some  of  them  are 
already  at  work.  Shall  it  be  said  that  you  hang  back?  " 

Here  at  length  was  the  direct  question.  It  elicited 
absolutely  no  reply. 

Colonel  Bonvalet  drew  his  sword,  and  commenced 
abstractedly  stroking  his  horse's  mane.  The  animal  was 
startled,  and  bounded  forward.  The  clatter  evidently 
caused  Brisson  some  alarm.  He  turned  sharply  to  dis- 
cover the  cause.  Then  he  waited  till  the  beast  was  qui- 
eted before  resuming. 

"Engineers!"  he  cried,  but  without  much  passion, 
being  unable  to  simulate  a  quality  foreign  to  his  nature, 
"have  you  forgotten  that  Arcola  and  Lodi  are  engraven 
on  your  standards?  All  of  you,  are  you  French  soldiers 
and  yet  able  to  remain  dumb  in  the  presence  of  the  great- 
grandson  of  Napoleon?  Yes,  in  his  presence.  The  Prince 
is  here!  " 

A  second  and  deeper  whisper  of  surprise  passed  along 
the  ranks,  followed  again  by  silence — the  same  hateful, 
interminable  silence  that  bore  presage  of  so  much  evil. 

"  He  remembers  Arcola  and  Lodi,  if  you  do  not.  He 
might  have  had  the  escort  of  any  regiment  in  Paris.  Yet 
he  has  chosen  to  commit  his  safety  to  your  keeping. 
And  you  are  dumb !  So  you  mean  to  disgrace  your 


148  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Colonel.  You  are  going  to  show  yourselves  unworthy 
of  this  great  mark  of  trust!  Cuirassiers,  Colonel  Bon- 
valet  is  behind  me — will  you  not  follow  him?" 

No  sound. 

"  For  God's  sake,  do  you  try!  "  whispered  Bonvalet 
in  the  Prince's  ear;  "otherwise  the  whole  thing  is  lost. 
These  accursed  fellows  won't  rise  to  Brisson;  it's  no 
sort  of  use.  My  men  shall  smart  for  this  in  the  morn- 
ing."  At  the  same  moment  he  twisted  his  heel  and 
flicked  the  Prince's  horse  with  his  spur.  Napoleon  made 
no  attempt  to  stop  it  as  it  started  forward  and  carried 
him  ahead  of  Brisson. 

"lam  the  Prince,"  he  shouted  wildly,  hardly  con- 
scious of  what  he  was  saying;  "I  am  here  to  fight  for 
the  throne  and  for  the  glory  of  France.  The  Republic 
has  brought  nothing  but  disgrace.  Will  you  not  trust 
me  and  give  me  your  aid?  See,  how  I  have  trusted  you! 
My  fortunes,  my  very  life,  are  in  your  hands!  " 

The  only  answer  was  Bonvalet's  hoarse  whisper  from 
behind: 

"Brisson,  draw!  What  are  you  thinking  of?  Get 
closer  up  to  him,  man!"  and  then  there  followed  the 
sound  of  Brisson  obeying. 

Napoleon  got  a  little  nearer  the  frontmost  lines. 

"Engineers!  Your  Colonel  has  told  you  I  am  a 
great-grandson  of  the  first  Napoleon.  Remember  what 
he  did  for  France!  how  he  carried  her  eagles  over  the 
length  and  breadth  of  Europe.  Remember,  too,  I  be- 
seech you,  what  you  did  under  his  leadership.  Are 
you  going  to  forget  the  Bridge  of  Lodi?  I  have  not  for- 
gotten it.  Otherwise,  for  what  reason  am  I  here,  when 
I  might  at  this  moment  be  on  my  way  to  the  Elyse"e?  I 
implore  you,  prove  to  me  that  my  confidence  has  not 
been  misplaced.  I  promise — most  solemnly  I  promise — 
if  you  help  me  now,  once  I  am  on  the  throne  I  will  have 
thought  alone  for  the  glory  of  our  dear  country." 

His  voice  rose  in  despair.  "A  second  time  I  implore 
you,  give  me  an  answer.  Behold,  behold  how  I  trust 
you!  "  And  to  the  horror  of  his  three  companions  he 
put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  rode  right  into  the  first  line 
of  Cuirassiers. 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON     .         149 

"The game  is  up,"  said  Bonvalet  to  Breheville;  "they 
will  kill  him." 

"  Won't  you  answer  me?  "  the  Prince  almost  sobbed. 
"  I  swear  to  you,  make  me  your  Emperor  and  I  will  lead 
you  to  your  revenge  across  the  Rhine.  Or  kill  me  if  you 
choose,  but  pass  over  my  dead  body  to  Alsace-Lorraine !  ' 

He  had  been  a  long  time  groping — here  was  the  right 
note  at  last.  The  fearful  silence  was  broken.  A  wild 
shout  greeted  his  words.  "Vive  Le  Prince!" — "Vive 
L'Empereur!"  they  shouted;  "Alsace-Lorraine!" — 
"  Alsace-Lorraine!  " 


Chapter  X 


But  the  night's  work  was  only  just  beginning.  Already 
the  two  colonels  had  restored  silence  and  drawn  their 
men  apart.  The  Engineers  commenced  to  leave  the  bar- 
racks, company  by  company,  under  Commandant  Ren- 
dall.  Major  Gorin  led  off  one  battalion  of  Cuirassiers. 
The  second,  after  furnishing  an  escort  for  Brisson  and 
Bre"heville,  were  kept  behind  to  guard  his  Highness,  not 
to  mention  any  other  distinguished  personage  whom 
Colonel  Klein  might  bring  in.  Soon  our  hero  was  left  in 
almost  total  solitude.  The  barrack  square  assumed 
sombre  proportions.  A  couple  of  cavalrymen  patrolled 
the  farther  corners;  while  a  dismounted  picket  guarded 
the  archway.  A  young  lieutenant  of  Engineers,  Adolph 
Mascaut  by  name,  had  been  left  in  attendance  on  his 
Highness.  Accompanied  by  this  guide  and  protector, 
the  latter  found  his  way  back  to  Brisson's  library,  where 
the  remains  of  his  dinner  still  lay  in  enticing  profusion 
under  the  gleams  of  a  hanging  lamp. 

The  two  of  them  had  scarcely  crossed  the  threshold 
when  the  faint  roar  of  musketry  broke  in  upon  the  still- 
ness of  the  summer  night.  "Good  Heavens!"  cried 
Napoleon,  "what  was  that?  " 

"The  street,"  the  Lieutenant  replied,  looking  wist- 
fully at  the  food. 

"  No — no — there  it  is  again!  " 

"That,"  answered  Mascaut,  "is  some  one  following 
us  up  the  stairs." 

"We  have  failed!     They  are  coming  to  ar — " 

"  It  sounds  like  a  lumbering  cavalryman.  Probably 
it  is  Colonel  Bonvalet. " 

It  was  that  truculent  warrior.    He  came  stamping  and 
prancing  in,  aglow  with  good  news. 
150 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  151 

"Five  minutes  of  the  game,"  he  shouted,  "the  first 
five  minutes!  and  we  have  actually  made  a  haul." 

"But — but — I  thought  I  caught  the  sound  of  firing 
the  second  you  came  up  the  stairs.  The  Lieutenant  here 
heard  it." 

"  I  say  it  was  the  street." 

"No,  no;  it  was  a  rattle  of  musketry." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  Bonvalet  re- 
turned. "  All  I  can  tell  you  is,  that  Klein  has  collared 
three  of  them,  including  Old  Boots.  The  dear  old  chap 
has  given  us  a  deal  of  trouble;  but  I  have  him  safe  and 
sound  in  the  inner  guardroom.  He  will  calm  down  by 
and  by,  when  he  finds  that  events  are  too  strong  for 
him.  I  am  compelled  to  lodge  one  of  the  malefactors  in 
this  part  of  the  world — in  this  house,  in  fact.  None  of 
the  d — d  rooms  possess  keys.  But  he  won't  interfere 
with  you,  I  daresay.  By  the  way,  one  of  them  turns  out 
to  be  that  old  Judas,  Verre.  He  had  quite  a  quarrel  with 
me  in  the  guardroom.  He  pretends  that  he  is  one  of 
the  chief  props  of  the  Bonapartist  cause;  and  that  Prince 
Felix,  if  only  I  will  send  round  to  him,  can  easily  prove 
it.  As  though  I  could  spare  men  to  scour  all  the  dis- 
reputable corners  of  Paris.  I  told  him  as  much." 
'Oh,'  says  he,  'if  that's  your  objection,  send  instead 
for  Monsieur  Walter  Sadler,  who  lives  quite  close,  in  the 
Rue  de  Berlin.' — '  Nonsense,'  says  I;  and  that  finishes 
it.  I  think  I  have  persuaded  him  that  he  will  be  quite 
comfortable  for  a  night  or  so  with  us ;  we  certainly  sha'n't 
need  him  longer.  I  have  also  promised  to  send  a  mes- 
sage to  his  wife — if  I  can." 

"I  think  you  may  safely  release  Monsieur  Verre," 
said  Napoleon. 

"Oh,  I  can't  interfere  with  Brisson's  arrangements," 
replied  Bonvalet  curtly.  "  I  only  came  to  give  you  word 
how  things  were  going.  I  must  be  off." 

"  Monsieur  Verre  is  a  friend  of  mine." 

"  I  have  my  orders,  Monseigneur.  Make  a  good  meal. 
Above  all,  keep  up  your  spirits." 

"  How  very  forgetful  of  me,"  said  Napoleon  to  Mas- 
caut,  when  Bonvalet  had  walked  himself  off;  "you  must 
be  hungry.  You  would  like  to  eat  something." 


152  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  Indeed  I  should." 

"  Pray  begin  at  once." 

"  But  your  Highness?  " 

"  No,  I  cannot  eat.  That  horrible  sound  still  echoes 
in  my  ears." 

"It  will  be  worse  later  on,"  said  the  young  fellow 
cheerfully.  He  sat  himself  down  without  more  ado  and 
presently  became  lost  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  Not 
for  long,  however.  He  was  in  the  midst  of  a  refreshing 
draught  of  claret  when  a  message  came  from  Bonvalet, 
desiring  his  immediate  presence  in  the  guardroom.  With 
a  muttered  imprecation  and  a  second  draught  by  way  of 
stirrup-cup,  he  rose  and  departed. 

So  it  came  that  our  hero  was  driven  to  the  "  street- 
fighting  "  for  diversion.  He  found  the  book  swollen  to 
twice  its  natural  size  by  loose  scraps  of  paper — cigar- 
bills  mostly — all  scrawled  over  with  Brisson's  views 
on  De  Morny.  The  fly-leaves  had  been  used  for  the 
same  purpose.  Here  and  there  choice  passages  showed 
heavily  scored  with  blue  pencil.  Indeed,  not  a  page  but 
bore  some  such  token  of  approval.  Nor  did  these  finger- 
posts at  all  interfere  with  Napoleon's  enjoyment.  On  the 
contrary,  they  helped  to  fix  his  attention.  He  speedily 
became  quite  interested.  Brisson's  plans  then  possessed 
some  cohesion  after  all.  They  were  not  the  haphazard, 
loosely  knit  concoctions  he  had  previously  imagined. 
Every  feature  of  this  coup  d'etat,  so  far  as  he  could  dis- 
cover, took  its  rise  in  De  Morny's  wonderful  book. 
Even  this  ignominious  seclusion  to  which  he  was  sub- 
jected, while  others  did  the  fighting,  had  chapter  and 
verse.  It  was  a  point  whereon  his  distinguished  con- 
nexion was  especially  emphatic. 

"The  man,"  De  Morny  remarks  in  more  places  than 
one,  "on  whose  behalf  the  coup  d'etat  is  made,  should 
be  careful  not  to  venture  out  of  doors  during  its  contin- 
uance. For  one  thing,  consider  the  terrible  conse- 
quences should  he  lose  his  life  or  be  taken  prisoner — 
either  contingency  a  very  possible  one!  At  the  supreme 
moment — at  the  moment  of  victory,  he  is  nowhere  to  be 
seen!  Such  a  catastrophe  is  to  reduce  a  noble  political 
engine  to  absurdity.  Again,  it  will  not  assist  him  to  the 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  153 

good  graces  of  his  subjects,  if  afterwards  it  be  discovered 
that  he  showed  himself  out  of  doors  when  blood  was 
flowing." 

Brisson  had  added  a  marginal  note:  "I  agree  abso- 
lutely." 

The  room,  it  will  be  remembered,  contained  a  third 
door.  This  Napoleon  had  endeavoured  to  open  on  the 
occasion  of  his  first  entry,  but  without  success.  Since 
then  he  had  not  given  it  a  second  thought. 

He  was  so  immersed  in  De  Morny,  he  did  not  observe 
the  handle  of  this  door  slowly  twitching  backwards  and 
forwards.  Some  one  on  the  outside  was  trying  to  get  in. 
Napoleon  turned  a  page;  the  key  turned  softly  in  the 
lock.  He  stooped  down  to  recover  one  of  Brisson's 
hieroglyphed  cigar-bills  which  had  fluttered  to  the  floor, 
and  at  the  same  instant  the  door  moved  gently  forward 
and  a  man  stepped  into  the  room. 

"Well,  Monsieur  Walter  Sadler,"  said  an  unfamiliar 
voice. 

De  Morny  fell  with  a  thud.  Bonaparte's  heart  nearly 
went  with  it.  He  looked  quickly  up.  Monsieur  Ca- 
rache,  Prime  Minister  of  France,  stood  smiling  down  on 
him  with  seraphic  tenderness. 

"Well,  Monsieur  Sadler!"  he  repeated  in  the  same 
playfully  admonitory  voice,  "  so  this  is  your  doing,  is  it? 
Oh  Cossar,  Caesar,  what  a  baneful  example  you  have 
bequeathed  to  mankind!  " 

"I  am  sitting  at  dinner  with  my  wife  and  little  girl," 
he  continued,  striking  an  attitude,  but  still  sweetly  smil- 
ing, "I  have  taken  my  first  mouthful  of  minestrone — a 
dish  to  which  I  am  especially  partial — when  a  servant 
rushes  in  and  informs  me  that  a  company  of  soldiers  are 
encircling  the  house.  The  same  minute,  a  clod-hopping 
lieutenant  with  dusty  boots  comes  tramping  up  the  stairs 
and  into  the  dining-room,  and  declares  me  his  prisoner, 
— me,  the  Prime  Minister  of  France,  prisoner  of  a  mean 
little  subaltern  on  ninety  sous  a  day!  Naturally,  my  wife 
and  little  girl  are  terrified  out  of  their  lives.  I  am  hustled 
off  then  and  there,  thrust  into  a  four-wheel  cab,  already 
containing  Verre  and  other  malefactors,  and  brought 
round  to  these  disreputable  barracks,  where  I  am  made 


154  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

to  sit  half  an  hour  in  a  very  unclean  guardroom.  I,  the 
Prime  Minister  of  France! — awaiting  the  pleasure  of  a 
sodden  colonel  of  Cuirassiers!  Prince,  Prince,  I  thought 
we  had  long  ago  relegated  this  sort  of  thing  to  Sofia." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  you  should  have  suffered  any  incon- 
venience,"  ejaculated  the  Prince.  As  yet  he  hardly 
knew  what  to  make  of  this  intruder.  Prime  Ministers, 
as  a  rule,  don't  carry  knives;  and  Carache's  affable 
smile,  tinged  though  it  was  with  intense  melancholy,  did 
not  look  suggestive  of  murder. 

"  Inconvenience — you  may  well  call  it  so.  Really,  had 
I  known  the  description  of  treatment  in  store  for  me,  I 
should  have  clapped  your  Highness  into  gaol  three  days 
ago. ' ' 

"But — "  began  Napoleon,  aghast. 

"There  are  no  'buts'  about  it,"  returned  the  Min- 
ister, wagging  his  finger.  "  The  man  has  to  get  up  very 
early  in  the  morning  who  wants  to  circumvent  Carache. 
Three  days  ago?  Why,  I  may  say,  I  had  a  suspicion  of 
your  very  identity  before  you  yourself  even  knew  it.  I 
call  it  exceedingly  ungrateful  of  Colonel  Brisson.  Here, 
I  might  have  had  the  lot  of  you  arrested  three  days  ago. 
Instead  of  doing  anything  of  the  kind,  I  simply  ordered 
Clisserole  off  to  Royat.  And  this  is  your  return!  You 
lock  me  up  in  an  unlighted  room  with  nothing  in  it  but 
the  smell  of  food.  How  long  do  you  intend  to  keep  me 
there?  " 

"  I  cannot  say,  indeed  I  cannot.  It  does  not  rest 
with  me." 

"  Until  the  morning,  I  will  wager  that  much.  Me,  the 
Prime  Minister  of  France!  And  I  haven't  had  a  mouth- 
ful to  eat -since  noon  to-day." 

"Won't  you  take  something?  " 

"I  shall  be  glad  to.  I  am  positively  famishing, "  and 
Carache  sat  him  down  and  began  where  Mascaut  had  left 
off. 

The  food,  whereof  he  partook  with  an  ungrudging 
hand,  could  not  make  him  any  sweeter  than  he  was.  But 
it  helped  to  dissipate  his  depression. 

"I  mustn't  be  understood  as  imputing  any  blame  to 
your  Highness,"  he  remarked  presently,  between  two 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  155 

mouthfuls.  "I  know,  better  than  most,  a  man  cannot  be 
everywhere.  Doubtlessly,  it  annoys  you  quite  as  much 
as  it  does  myself,  to  hear  how  I  have  been  served." 

"  Most  certainly." 

"A  man  of  my  rank," — taking  a  deep  and  refreshing 
drink, —  "who  has  been  Premier  I  do  n't  know  how  many 
times,  and  will  be  Premier  again  about  as  often." 

Napoleon  saw  no  reason  to  dissent  from  this  state- 
ment. 

"  But  he  won't  benefit  by  it — Brisson  won't.  No  man 
ever  benefits  by  crossing  me.  This  chicken  is  uncom- 
monly good:  they  live  well  in  the  army." 

Carache  took  some  of  everything,  smiling  at  the  viands 
much  as  he  had  smiled  upon  Napoleon.  When  he  had 
had  enough,  which  was  not  for  a  considerable  time,  he 
came  and  sat  himself  down  opposite  the  Prince  in  the 
most  natural  manner  possible. 

"  You  have  been  pretty  quick  about  this  business," 
he  remarked,  holding  one  hand  in  front  of  his  mouth, 
while  he  picked  his  teeth  with  the  other;  "  it  cannot  have 
been  more  than  a  month  ago  since  we  met  in  London." 

"  I  do  not  remember  the  occasion,"  said  Napoleon. 
Even  Muriel  had  for  the  time  being  escaped  his  memory. 

"  At  Jervis's  restaurant. " 

"Ah,  yes;  you  were  there  that  night." 

"I  noticed  you.  I  had  an  idea  that  something  of 
this  sort  might  happen." 

"It  is  more  than  I  had,"  laughed  the  quondam  bar- 
rister. 

"  Exactly.  So  I  may  claim  to  have  discovered  you 
even  before  De  Morin.  Your  marvellous  likeness  to 
Plon —  or,  I  should  say,  to  his  uncle,  the  great  Bona- 
parte, first  put  me  on  the  right  track." 

"  Many  men  possess  that  likeness." 

"  Not  in  such  a  marvellous  degree.  You  have  their 
gestures — their  little  mannerisms.  I  knew  Plon-Plon, 
so  I  can  say  it.  Does  not  De  Morin  tell  you  as  much? 
By  the  way,  Monseigneur  will  pardon  me,  but  he  was  not 
in  a  very  cheerful  frame  of  mind,  that  evening?  " 

"  I  was  poor,  if  you  mean  that?  " 

"  I  saw  it  at  once.     Your  whole  appearance  denoted 


156  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

the  great  soul   ground  down  by  poverty.     Lord  Fram- 
lingham's  daughter  is  pretty,  is  she  not?  " 

Bonaparte  started.  Muriel  had  only  that  instant  come 
into  his  mind.  He  was  not  fickle-hearted,  that  he  did 
not  remember  her  always;  but  any  man  might  be  for- 
given forgetfulness  in  such  a  whirl  as  this. 

"  She  is  very  pretty. " 

"I  thought  your  Highness  admired  her.  I  under- 
stand she  is  to  be  over  in  France  this  year.  No  doubt 
we  shall  see  something  of  her  at  the  Elysee. " 

"The  Framlinghams,  then,  know  the  President?" 
said  Napoleon  abstractedly. 

Carache  laughed.  "Your  Highness  has  taken  lessons 
of  De  Morin,  I  perceive.  No;  the  President's  days  are 
numbered. " 

Napoleon  joined  him  in  his  mirth,  blushing  a  little. 

"  So  you  think  we  are  going  to  succeed?  " 

'Of  course  you  are.  Have  I  not  assured  your  suc- 
cess? Didn't  I  send  Clisserole,  the  commandant  of  the 
garrison,  off  to  Royat?  More  than  that,  I  discovered, 
this  very  morning,  that  old —  Monsieur  had  got  wind  of 
the  affair.  Monsieur  le  President  had  actually  sent  for 
Mesnil  from  Lille  on  his  own  initiative.  I — I,  Carache! 
— countermanded  the  order.  To-morrow  morning,  Paris 
will  be  patting  Brisson  on  the  back  as  the  hero  of  the 
coup  d  Mat;  but  your  Highness,  and  he  likewise,  will 
know  that  one  man,  more  than  any  other,  deserves  most 
of  the  credit." 

Bonaparte  could  not  stifle  a  smile  of  self-conscious 
complacency." 

"  And  who  may  he  be?  " 

"  Myself!  When  you  are  Emperor  you  will  not  forget 
that?"' 

"  Then  you  will  be  prepared  to  serve  the  Empire?  " 

"  '  France  and  duty  before  all ';  there  you  have  my 
motto.  Whither  my  motto  points,  I  go.  I  presume 
there  will  be  no  radical  change  in  the  constitution?  " 

"I  can  promise  you  that,"  was  the  decisive  reply. 
"I  promise  to  leave  every  institution,  excepting  the 
Presidency,  of  course,  absolutely  intact." 

"Then  I  do  not  anticipate  that  you  will   have   to 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  157 

change  your  advisers.  The  Electorate  is  very  fond  of  me 
— me,  tempered  with  your  merest  flavour  of  Ponte"coulant. 
We  can  commence  in  the  morning  where  we  left  off  to- 
night." 

"I  do  hope  they  are  treating  the  President  properly 
over  there  in  the  guardroom.  Bonvalet  seems  to  me 
such  a  rough  diamond,"  murmured  Napoleon,  suddenly 
calling  to  mind  that  tall  and  gracious  presence,  which 
had  bestowed  such  genial  courtesy  upon  him  only  a  few 
weeks  back. 

"He  is  all  right.  You  may  trust  Bonvalet  not  to 
commit  himself  too  deeply  before  he  knows  for  certain 
the  side  that  is  going  to  win.  I  know  the  fellow  well. 
It  is  just  those  rough  diamonds  you  mention  that  have 
facets  to  catch  the  light,  whichever  way  it  comes.  Sup- 
pose you  get  beaten  after  all,  do  you  think  Bonvalet 
will  be  caught?  Not  he!  He  will  produce  a  dozen  un- 
impeachable witnesses  to  prove  that,  on  the  night  in 
question,  he  was  ill  in  bed  with  influenza,  the  other  side 
of  Siberia.  The  evidence  of  the  President  and  myself 
will  go  for  nothing." 

"He  is  such  a  kind  and  genial  fellow,"  continued 
Napoleon,  still  thinking  of  Monsieur,  "  I  should  be 
indeed  sorry  were  he  to  suffer  any  annoyance.  Do  you 
think  that  this  business  will  chagrin  him  very  much?  " 

"Not  in  the  least.  He  Jias  finished  half  his  term, 
and  is  already  sick  of  the  Elyse"e.  He  won't  care  two 
sous  either  way,  provided  he  is  given  time  to  remove  his 
effects.  I  am  the  man  to  complain." 

"Do  you  fancy  he  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  take 
office  under  the  new  order?"  hazarded  the  Prince. 
Carache  looked  glum. 

"  I  do  not  anticipate  any  immediate  change  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Electorate.  It  is  likely  to  remain  content 
with  me — tempered  by  Ponte"coulant — for  some  little  time 
to  come.  Still,  if  you  wish  it,  I  will  ask  him  if  he  would 
care  to  go  back  to  the  Marine.  I  daresay  I  can  find 
another  job  for  the  present  man." 

"If  you  see  him  to-night,  you  might  convey  my 
respects  to  him,  also  my  sincere  re — " 

"  I  am  not  likely  to  see  him.     That  abandoned  Bris- 


158  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

son  has  established  a  sort  of  martial  law.  Neither  Mon- 
sieur, nor  I,  nor  you,  will  be  suffered  to  budge  until  he 
gives  permission.  It  is  very  overbearing.  He  certainly 
won't  advantage  by  it ;  no  one  ever  does  who  treats  me  in 
this  cavalier  fashion.  I  presume  Monseigneur  has  prom- 
ised him  some  reward?" 

Monseigneur  blushed.  "Yes,  I  have,"  he  blurted 
out.  "  He  is  to  receive  a  Marshal's  baton,  provided  we 
win." 

"My  dear  sir,  you  mustn't  think  of  such  a  thing, 
really  you  must  not!  "  cried  Carache,  altogether  dumb- 
founded. "A  Marshal's  baton!  Why,  we  dare  n't  give 
more  than  one,  and  that  is  promised  already." 

"I  was  not  aware  of  it." 

"Yes;  I  have  promised  it  to  Changarnier, "  replied 
the  Premier.  "A  brigade  will  be  ample  reward  for 
Brisson's  services.  He  and  Bonvalet  shall  have  one 
between  them, — the  latter  to  be  commandant." 

"But—" 

"No  'buts,'  my  dear  Prince.  I  will  manage  it  for 
you,  never  fear.  The  Premier  has  to  do  these  unpleas- 
ant little  duties.  A  Marshal's  baton!  I  have  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing!  Changarnier  quite  understands 
that  he  is  to  receive  the  only  one.  If  we  deceive  him, 
we  shall  have  him  in  open  revolt.  After  Mesnil,  he  is 
the  most  influential  soldier  in  France.  He  would  very 
soon  pull  the  Empire  about  our  ears,  I  can  tell  you.  My 
word,  how  that  fellow  Brisson  has  been  imposing  on  your 
inexperience." 

"  Perhaps  you  may  be  right." 

But  these  are  depths  of  meanness  which  even  an  irre- 
sponsible chronicler  shrinks  from  laying  bare.  To  do 
the  Prince  this  justice,  the  next  minute  he  was  sorry  for 
what  he  had  said.  His  foot  by  chance  touched  Brisson's 
book  upon  the  floor.  The  picture  straightway  rose 
before  his  eyes.  The  heroic,  silent  man,  gauntly  erect 
upon  his  horse,  steadfast  in  the  presence  of  death  itself, 
winning  him  a  throne.  But  what  can  a  man  do,  slung  up 
between  earth  and  heaven?  Everything  would  be  dif- 
ferent, later  on. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  159 

Carache  went  to  the  table  and  poured  himself  out  a 
glass  of  wine. 

"Now  as  to  higher  politics,"  he  said  comfortably, 
after  this  refreshment.  "Your  Highness  will  find  my — 
and  Ponte"coulant's — experience  of  invaluable  assistance 
in  these  matters.  Let  me  say  this  much  of  Pontecoulant, 
in  passing.  He  is  no  leader,  but  one  of  the  most  com- 
petent of  servants.  On  the  few  occasions  when  he  has 
presided  over  the  Cabinet,  I  have  been  the  real  leader, 
stooping  to  the  second  place  merely  temporarily,  and 
owing  to  the  exigencies  of  party  warfare.  I  think  it  will 
be  generally  admitted,  not  least  by  the  Minister  of  the 
Interior  himself,  that  I  am  head  and  shoulders  his 
superior  in  eloquence,  initiative,  and  indeed  all  the 
qualities  requisite  to  one  who  is  called  upon  to  com- 
mand." 

"I  am  afraid  I  do  not  know  Monsieur  Pontecoulant." 

"That  is  a  pity.  One  has  only  to  see  Pontecoulant 
to  know  what  type  of  man  he  is.  But  surely  you  have 
met  him?  I  even  remember  having  observed  you  talking 
together, — at  Verre's  house,  I  think  it  was." 

"  He  may  have  given  me  a  couple  of  fingers,  now  and 
again.  I  never  get  more  from  important  people  like 
Pontecoulant  and — " 

"You  mean  me,"  said  Carache,  suavely.  "I  know 
the  occasions  you  refer  to.  I  did  it,  you  may  be  sure, 
with  a  purpose."  He  did  not  add  what  purpose,  but 
contented  himself  with  a  knowing  look.  As  for  Napoleon, 
he  neither  knew  nor  cared  to  know  the  point  of  those 
disciplinary  measures. 

"We  shall  be  all  the  better  friends  for  it,"  Carache 
went  on. 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it." 

"I  cannot  tell  your  Highness  how  I  have  appreciated 
this  little  talk  of  ours.  Brisson's  rudeness  has  turned 
out  a  blessing  in  disguise.  It  has  solved  a  problem 
which,  during  the  last  few  days,  has  bothered  me  very 
much.  I  wanted  a  word  with  you,  and  did  not  know 
how  to  get  it." 

A  sudden  impulse  drove  Bonaparte  to  a  very  obvious 
question. 


160  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"What  will  happen,  supposing  we  are  beaten?  " 

"I  shall  shoot  Bonvalet  and  Brisson,"  returned 
Carache,  without  an  instant's  hesitation.  "  I  do  n't  ap- 
preciate their  Bulgarian  tricks.  As  for  you," — survey- 
ing the  Prince  meditatively, — "  I  suppose  we  should  have 
to  deport  you  and  leave  you  to  return  another  day.  If 
we  decapitated  you,  we  should  only  have  Victor  to  deal 
with,  or  Louis,  or,  worse  still,  that  worm  Felix.  And 
you  know  the  saying,  '  One  decapitated  pretender  goes 
farther  than  four  live  ones.'  Nevertheless,  I  should 
give  you  a  baddish  quarter  of  an  hour  before  I  let  you 
go.  In  France,"  he  wound  up,  with  a  burst  of  involun- 
tary self-congratulation,  "a  really  clever  man  may  be 
Premier,  off  and  on,  from  the  time  he  reaches  his 
majority  to  the  day  of  his  death.  Hark !  What  was  that?' ' 

The  Prince  knew  the  meaning  of  the  sound  only  too 
well.  It  rudely  recalled  all  the  miseries  of  his  present 
position. 

The  noise  came  closer.  "What  was  that?  "  repeated 
Carache  with  an  approach  to  peremptoriness. 

"I  fear  it  is  the  sound  of  firing,"  Napoleon  said 
apologetically.  A  cold  sweat  suffused  his  brow.  He 
felt  like  a  man  seated  at  the  bedside  of  some  suffering 
friend.  The  symptoms  of  the  feared  and  fatal  malady 
have  been  absent  for  a  while;  there  arises  in  their  place 
the  faintest  glimmering  of  hope.  Alas!  the  dreaded  signs 
return,  resummoning  despair,  and  tinging  with  a  retro- 
spective bitterness  the  lightened  moments  that  have 
passed  away. 

"There  it  is  again,"  snappishly  from  Carache.  "My 
word,  what  a  mess  there  will  be  in  the  morning!  Paris 
won't  get  over  this  for  days.  Thank  heavens,  Victor 
Hugo  is  dead!  Curse  that  blundering  Brisson  and  his 
Balkanizing.  He  sha'n't  even  get  his  brigade  if  this 
sort  of  thing  continues.  On  second  thoughts,  Monseig- 
neur,  you  had  better  begin  with  Pontecoulant.  He  is 
more  the  man  for  this  sort  of  work.  I  shall  be  found 
more  suitable  later  on,  when  things  have  quieted  down  a 
bit." 

"  Some  one  is  coming  across  the  yard, "  said  Napoleon, 
anxious  to  be  alone  with  the  firing. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  161 

"  Bonvalet  by  the  sound.  I  am  not  anxious  to  meet 
him.  These  swashbucklers  are  intolerable  when  they 
get  a  little  power  into  their  hands.  I  suppose  you  will 
leave  Monsieur  a  day  or  two  to  get  comfortably  moved. 
I  daresay  I  shall  find  you  at  the  Rue  de  Berlin  in  case  I 
want  you  in  the  morning.  Good-night,  your  Highness." 

Carache  disappeared,  to  return,  however,  a  moment 
later.  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  could  you  oblige  me  with 
the  loan  of  your  matches?  That  brute  Brisson — "  but 
the  passage  door  burst  open,  and  Carache's  burst  to, 
with  a  simultaneity  which  nipped  in  the  bud  any  further 
remarks  the  latter  might  have  desired  to  make,  while 
reflecting  the  greatest  credit  on  his  presence  of  mind. 

It  was  Bonvalet, — Bonvalet  as  breezy  and  boisterous 
as  ever. 

"  Better  and  better!  "  he  cried.  "I  have  just  looked 
in  to  tell  you  the  good  news.  Laurent  and  Gerardt  are 
masters  of  the  south  side,  from  Crenelle  to  the  Gare 
d' Orleans.  The  troops  have  everywhere  met  with  the 
most  enthusiastic  reception.  One  of  my  own  men,  who 
has  just  brought  in  a  message  from  Gorin,  tells  me  that 
the  throngs  of  people  round  your  proclamations  still  con- 
tinue as  thick  as  ever.  You  might  be  the  Prodigal  Son, 
the  way  you  are  being  welcomed  home." 

"There  has  been  some  firing,"  hesitated  Bonaparte. 
Some  more  "firing"  came  pat  upon  his  words. 

"  Oh,  there  may  be  a  little  tiff  here  and  there,"  Bon- 
valet returned  carelessly. 

"You  do  n't  expect  these  things  to  go  along  quite  on 
castors,  especially  when  one  remembers  that  Douay  has 
only  just  got  hold  of  his  new  guns." 

"  Good  God!  You  do  n't  mean  to  say  that  the  artil- 
lery have  been  in — in — action." 

"They  have  done  a  little,"  Bonvalet  admitted; 
"nothing  else  could  be  expected.  Years  ago  Douay 
used  to  say  that  he  would  like  to  knock  a  hole  in  the 
Tour  de  St.  Jacques.  It  is  not  in  human  nature  to 
reject  so  long  looked  for  a  chance  when  it  does  come." 

"This  is  terrible,"  moaned  the  Prince.  "I  did  hope 
there  would  be  no  bloodshed.  You  do  not  know  how 
many  people  are  killed  so  far,  I  suppose? " 


162  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  I  certainly  do  not.  Brisson  does  not  keep  me 
posted  in  worthless  particulars  of  that  description.  When 
they  are  dead,  they  are  dead,  and  all  the  counting  in 
the  world  won't  resurrect  them.  By  the  way,  Brisson 
himself  is  wounded,  so  they  tell  me:  a  bullet  through 
his  hand,  or  something  of  that  sort." 

"I  hope  he  is  not  disabled,"  exclaimed  Napoleon, 
with  a  rapid  resumption  of  worldliness. 

"No,  he  's  all  right,"  grinned  Bonvalet.  "We  always 
anticipated  that  the  fighting  would  be  round  the  Opera 
House,  and  you  see  we  were  right." 

"Oh  dear!  oh  dear!"  the  poor  Prince  commenced 
moaning  anew,  in  a  paroxysm  of  terror,  "to  think  that 
these  things  are  happening  not  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
and  I  am  sitting  hidden  in  this  corner.  It  is  contemptible ! 
People  will  say  I  am  afraid." 

"  They  would  say  so  were  they  to  see  you  now, "  Bon- 
valet  ejaculated  bluntly. 

"I  cannot  endure  this  inaction  any  longer.  It  is 
killing  me.  It  is  killing  me,  I  tell  you.  I  shall  go  out 
and  join  Brisson!"  He  started  to  his  feet,  and  seized 
his  hat  and  the  riding-whip  which  the  Colonel  had  lent 
him. 

"Impossible.  Your  Highness  cannot  move  from 
here.  I  have  my  orders;  I  must  obey  them." 

One  of  Douay's  mitrailleuse  spluttered  out  concur- 
rence. The  noise  that  followed  was  not  the  crumbling 
St.  Jacques.  Bonaparte  became  hysterical. 

"Am  I  your  Prince,  or  am  I  not?  I  order  you  to  stand 
aside.  I  will  go  and  stop  this  slaughter.  I  would  to 
God  I  had  never  assented."  He  strode  to  the  window, 
flinging  it  wide  open.  Bonvalet  half  imagined  that  he 
contemplated  this  avenue  of  escape. 

"Fetch  my  horse!  "  he  shouted  down  to  the  sentinel. 
"Now,  Colonel  Bonvalet,  if  you  please,  stand  aside  from 
the  door!  " 

"I  am  sorry,"  doggedly  from  the  Colonel;  "I  am 
compelled  to  refuse." 

"  How  dare  you  say  that  to  me?  Am  I  not  the  Prince? 
Who  compels  you  to  refuse?  " 

"Colonel  Brisson." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  163 

"Who  is  Colonel  Brisson?  Brisson — Brisson — always 
Brisson!  He  directs  every  one  and  everything.  He 
orders  this,  and  forbids  that, — his  hand  is  everywhere. 
One  would  imagine  that  he  was  fighting  for  his  throne, 
not  for  mine. " 

"I  daresay  he  thinks  so  himself — when  he  looks  at 
his  wounded  hand." 

"  No  sneers,  if  you  please. " 

"It  was  agreed  that  he  should  take  the  chief  com- 
mand," persisted  the  Cuirassier. 

"  Yes,  but  under  me.  There  is  my  horse.  Come,  let 
me  pass." 

"Not  so  loud,  I  beg.     The  men  will  hear  us." 

"  I  do  not  care.     Away  from  the  door,  I  say!  " 

Bonvalet  turned  his  eyes  to  the  ground,  lost  in  deep 
thought.  He  seemed  about  to  relent.  His  opponent 
waxed  more  imperious  than  ever. 

"Suppose  I  let  your  Highness  out  of  barracks — what 
then?  What  can  you  do?  What  do  you  propose  yourself ?" 

"I  am  not  called  upon  to  render  you  or  any  one  an 
account  of  my  intentions,"  the  Prince  replied;  so  he 
straightway  did,  though  with  excessive  hauteur. 

"  I  propose  to  ride  down  to  the  Opera  House  and  put 
an  end  to  this  slaughter." 

"  Satan  himself  could  not  do  it.  The  coup  d'etat  has 
begun;  it  must  go  on  to  the  bitter  end.  No  power  in 
heaven  or  earth  can  stop  it.  You  should  have  thought 
of  your  scruples  before." 

"  I  did  not  know." 

"  You  might  easily  have  guessed,"  rejoined  Bonva- 
let with  something  approaching  a  sneer. 

"You  surely  did  not  expect  that  you  had  only  to  ap- 
pear to  be  received  with  acclamation.  Thrones  are  not 
to  be  got  that  way.  At  any  rate  it  is  no  use  your  inter- 
vening at  this  stage.  You  can  do  nothing." 

"  I  mean  to  have  a  good  try,"  said  Napoleon,  em- 
ploying that  voice  of  muffled  determination  so  habitual 
among  thoroughly  weak  men. 

"  I  fear  it  is  impossible.  I  beg  you,  do  not  lay  me 
under  the  necessity  of  a  further  refusal.  Please  try  and 
comprehend  the  difficulties  of  my  position." 


1 64  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Napoleon's  sole  answer  was  a  step  towards  the  door. 

"  Be  reasonable,  I  beg  of  you." 

"  I  will  go.  Let  me  pass.  I  insist.  My  horse  is  wait- 
ing below.  I  refuse  to  be  made  to  appear  ridiculous." 

"  You  will  certainly  ruin  all  if  you  do  go  out." 

"I  will  risk  that." 

"  You  may  be  killed  or  taken  prisoner." 

"  I  do  not  care." 

"And  all  for  what?     You  can  do  no  good." 

"  I  can  try. " 

"What  about  us,  then,  who  are  risking  all  on  your 
behalf?  Do  n't  we  deserve  some  consideration?  " 

"  It  is  just  on  that  account  that  I  mean  to  put  an  end 
to  this  butchery. " 

Douay's  accursed  artillery,  which  had  been  silent 
a  while,  recommenced  its  horrible  splutterings,  causing 
the  humane  creature  the  most  atrocious  agony.  He 
danced  about,  now  on  one  leg,  now  on  the  other,  in 
turns  imploring  and  commanding  to  be  allowed  to  go 
forth  and  put  a  stop  to  such  horrible  carnage.  It  did 
him  infinite  credit.  Bonvalet  said  as  much,  while  re- 
maining obdurate.  At  last  Monseigneur  came  quite 
beside  himself  with  rage. 

"Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  I  order  you  to 
stand  aside!  " 

"  I  refuse." 

Napoleon  clenched  his  teeth  and  hands  and  made  a 
dart  towards  the  door.  The  burly  Cuirassier,  however, 
was  too  quick  for  him.  He  flung  one  arm  round  him, 
holding  him  in  a  vice. 

"I  am  sorry  indeed  that  your  Highness  should  drive 
me  to  violence.  For  God's  sake  be  quiet!  We  shall 
have  the  whole  barracks  here." 

"  Let  me  go!  "  shrieked  the  Prince,  struggling  madly 
in  his  efforts  to  be  free.  He  was  startled  by  the  touch 
of  something  hard  and  cold  upon  his  forehead.  Its  effect 
was  magical. 

' '  I  shall  be  forced  to  do  it, ' '  said  Bonvalet  sadly.  * '  I 
should  be  very  distressed,  of  course;  but  if  you  will  make 
the  thing  necessary — in  any  case,  you  had  better  be 
killed  in  here  than  in  the  streets." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  165 

"Take  it  away, "  said  the  Prince,  shutting  his  eyes 
and  trembling  violently.  "I  will  be  quiet." 

Bonvalet  at  once  withdrew  both  the  restraining  arm 
and  pistol,  which  latter  implement,  by  the  way,  was  un- 
loaded. Napoleon  sank  back  panting  into  a  chair. 

"  Monseigneur  will  give  me  his  promise  not  to  renew 
the  attempt? " 

"No,"  ejaculated  the  vanquished  man  sullenly. 

"Then  I  shall  be  compelled  to  spend  the  rest  of  the 
evening  in  this  room.  It  may  seriously  affect  the  suc- 
cess of  our  enterprise." 

"Let  it!  "  rejoined  our  hero,  falling  into  the  tone  of 
a  whipt  child.  "I  have  good  reason  to  know  what  a 
valuable  servant  you  are." 

Bonvalet  took  the  arm-chair  lately  vacated  by  Carache, 
folding  his  arms  with  a  great  show  of  patience. 

For  a  while  no  sound  was  heard  beyond  the  ticking  of 
the  clock  and  the  tread  of  the  sentinel  below.  The 
Prince's  horse  had  been  discreetly  withdrawn. 

Presently  the  Colonel  began  to  fidget.  He  muttered 
something  about  its  being  a  shame  that  many  should  be 
made  to  suffer  for  one.  "I  am  afraid  I  must  go,"  he 
said  at  last. 

"  You  hardly  expect  me  to  press  you  to  stay? " 

"I  shall  double  the  guard." 

"You  may  do  as  you  please." 

"And — and — your  Highness  may  as  well  know  it — 
they  will  have  orders  to  hinder  your  egress  at  all  costs." 

"  Had  n't  you  better  send  for  a  file  at  once  and  have 
me  shot  without  more  fuss?  " 

Bonvalet  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Monseigneur 
will  think  differently  later  on — when  he  recovers  his 
senses,"  and,  nodding  slightly  towards  the  unhappy 
young  man,  he  left  the  room. 

Napoleon  lay  back  in  a  half  stupor,  hardly  knowing 
whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry  that  his  quixotic  intentions 
had  been  thus  effectually  frustrated.  He  heard  them 
double — it  sounded  almost  as  if  they  were  trebling — the 
guard  underneath  his  window.  He  wondered  what  the 
sentinel  who  had  been  down  below  throughout  the  late 
scene  must  think  of  him;  the  groom  who  had  brought 


1 66  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

his  horse  and  taken  it  away  again;  Carache,  who,  he 
did  n't  doubt,  still  had  his  eye  glued  to  the  keyhole.  He 
wondered.  But  did  not  greatly  care.  His  brain  had 
settled  into  a  lethargy  of  despair, — that  anodyne  of 
nature  wherewith  he  had  been  endowed  far  beyond  his 
legitimate  share. 

Lieutenant  Mascaut  disturbed  this  comatose  condi- 
tion. The  young  man,  also,  was  in  but  a  gloomy  frame 
of  mind.  So  much  appeared  evident  from  the  abrupt 
manner  of  his  entry.  The  room  might  have  belonged 
to  a  brother  subaltern  instead  of  being  the  shrine  it  was. 
His  Highness,  however,  was  far  too  limp  to  take  um- 
brage. He  lifted  his  head  with  excessive  languor. 

"Did  you  meet  Bonvalet  on  your  way  here?"  he 
asked. 

Mascaut  replied  in  the  negative. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  there  is  a  deal  of  blood  being  shed 
over  in  the  Place  de  1'Opera. " 

"  Monseigneur  is  quite  right,"  was  the  gloomy  re- 
joinder; "  there  is." 

Napoleon  recommenced  softly  moaning.  "Oh  dear! 
oh  dear!  How  can  the  government  be  so  foolish!  I 
am  certain  to  win;  even  Car — ,  every  one  says  so." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that.  The  report  goes  that 
Changarnier  is  out  for  the  government,  and  that  our 
men  are  being  driven  pell-mell  from  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde.  One  of  Douay's  officers — young  Miiller  of 
the  Ninth  Artillery  Brigade — has  come  in  wounded:  he 
tells  me  that  it  is  all  they  can  do  to  hold  their  guns. 
The  government  have  telegraphed  for  troops  from  Rouen, 
Amiens,  Clermont,  and  I  don't  know  where  else  besides. 
If  these  can  be  brought  up  quickly  enough,  we  shall  as- 
suredly get  beaten." 

"  This  is  terrible  news.    Does  Bonvalet  know  of  this?" 

"  He  '11  hear  it,  when  he  gets  back  to  the  guard- 
room." 

"  Ought  I  not  to  be  on  my  way  to  the  Gare  de  1'Est' 
Brisson  said  I  was  to  be  taken  there,  if  things  went 
against  us." 

"  I  fear  you  would  find  the  government  troops  in 
possession,"  Mascaut  replied  with  a  contempt  that 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  167 

was  scarcely  veiled.  "They  come  that  way  from 
Chalons." 

"What  a  fool  I  am,"  cried  Napoleon  wringing  his 
hands.  "I  might  have  guessed  this  would  result  from 
trusting  in  Brisson.  Would  to  heaven  I  had  listened  to  De 
Morin  and  Hadamard!  And  for  a  certainty  that  drunken 
bully  Bonvalet  will  no  more  think  of  conveying  me  to  a 
place  of  safety  than — than —  The  lot  of  you  are  traitors ! 
When  the  time  comes  you  will  save  your  own  precious 
skins.  I  shall  be  left  here  to  be  taken  and  shot.  My 
God,  I  shall  become  the  laughing-stock  of  Paris!  " 

"Take  the  matter  into  your  own  hands,"  Mascaut 
suggested. 

"  I  do  not  follow  you." 

"Assume  command  in  person." 

"  I  should  only  be  too  glad, "  said  his  Highness,  know- 
ing how  impossible  it  was. 

"  Muller  says  that  our  people  are  already  commencing 
to  ask  where  the  Emperor  is.  If  it  came  out  that  you 
were  lurking  in  here,  the  effects  would  be  disastrous. 
Brisson  made  a  mistake  at  the  very  outset;  most  of  us 
said  so.  Obviously,  your  Highness's  proper  place  is  at 
the  head  of  your  supporters.  Take  my  advice,  and 
assume  it.  You  may  yet  retrieve  the  fortunes  of  the 
day." 

"But  Bonvalet?" 

"What  about  him?  " 

"He  won't  let  me  go.  I  asked  him  only  a  few  min- 
utes before  you  came  in,  and  he  refused." 

"I  do  not  understand  you.  I  think  your  Highness 
must  be  labouring  under  some  strange  delusion." 

Napoleon  gave  a  sickly  smile.  "I  would  I  were. 
Brisson  is  in  command,  you  see;  and  he  has  given  Bon- 
valet his  orders." 

"  He  cannot  interfere  with  your  Highness." 

"He  does,  all  the  same.  They  have  put  a  double 
guard  outside  the  house,  with  orders  to  shoot  me  if  I  stir. 
I  am  as  much  a  prisoner  as  the  President  himself." 

' '  Whew ! ' '  whistled  the  young  officer ;  "I  had  no  sus- 
picion of  this." 

"  Not  that  I  do  n't  see  the  truth  of  your  argument," 


1 68  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

continued  Napoleon,  feeling  quite  safe  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  double  sentry,  and  waxing  warmer  and 
warmer  as  he  proceeded;  "  I  am  exceedingly  anxious  to 
get  out  of  this  ignoble  position.  But  what  can  I  do? 
You  see  for  yourself,  it  is  a  case  of  '  force  majeure. '  ' 

Mascaut  remained  silent  for  a  while,  wrapped  in 
thought. 

"I  daresay  I  could  get  round  Bonvalet, "  he  said, 
suddenly  returning  to  life. 

Napoleon  had  his  own  opinion  upon  that  point. 

"  My  dear  lieutenant,"  he  accordingly  cried  with  great 
warmth,  "  I  should  be  forever  grateful." 

"  Your  Highness's  position  must  be  at  the  head  of  your 
troops?  " 

"  Unquestionably. " 

"Or,  at  all  events,  on  Brisson's  right  hand?  I  know 
where  the  Colonel  is  to  be  found." 

"  But  how  to  get  to  him,  my  dear  young  friend?  " 

"  Suppose  I  undertook  to  show  you  the  way?  " 

"I  repeat,  I  should  regard  you  as  one  of  the  chief 
contributors  to  my  final  success."  The  Prince  was  still 
cordial  enough;  but  he  was  growing  a  trifle  weary  of  all 
this. 

"Very  well,  then,"  cried  Mascaut  flinging  aside  his 
doubts  and  scruples  in  a  sudden  burst  of  excitement, 
"follow  me;  I  will  take  you  to  Brisson. " 

"What  do  you  mean?  "  said  Napoleon,  with  a  startled 
look  at  the  young  man's  flashing  eyes. 

"We  need  not  go  through  the  barracks  at  all.  This 
house  has  a  small  door  opening  almost  direct  into  the 
Rue  Mirome'nil;  we  officers  use  it  sometimes.  Bonvalet 
knows  nothing  about  it.  Follow  me!  " 

"But — "  began  Bonaparte  dubiously. 

"I  can  find  the  key.  There  is  absolutely  no  danger. 
We  shall  have  joined  Brisson  before  they  learn  of  our 
escape.  Quick,  quick,  Monseigneur!  you  and  I  will 
save  the  day  yet." 

"But — "  again  from  Bonaparte. 

"I  assure  you  there  is  not  the  least  chance  of  our 
being  seen.  Remember,  they  are  already  calling  for  you, 
out  of  doors!  " 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  169 

For  very  shame  Napoleon  could  hesitate  no  longer. 
He  took  up  hat  and  stick,  and  with  a  sinking  heart  fol- 
lowed Mascaut  out  of  the  room. 

They  had  been  gone  but  a  few  minutes,  when  Mon- 
sieur Carache  stole  in  on  tiptoe  in  pursuit  of  the  matches 
and  a  little  more  refreshment. 


Chapter  XI 


The  Lieutenant,  stealing  along  on  tiptoe,  led  Napoleon 
downstairs  into  the  dim-lit  hall.  The  front  door  lay 
open.  Within  the  porch  a  sentinel  stood  motionless, 
wellnigh  a  figure  cast  in  bronze.  His  back  was  towards 
them:  his  eyes,  no  doubt,  were  fixed  on  space;  his  ears 
alert  after  fresh  disclosures  from  above.  Mascaut  en- 
joined caution  with  a  finger  against  his  lip;  while  as  for 
the  Prince,  he  felt  sorely  tempted  to  crash  everything 
conveniently  detachable  upon  his  person,  quite  regard- 
less of  its  value,  loudly  to  the  floor. 

They  made  their  way  safely  through  the  hall,  and  en- 
tered a  narrow  passage  terminating  in  the  postern  door 
Mascaut  had  mentioned.  Our  hero  was  already  commenc- 
ing to  curse  its  very  existence.  He  did  so  all  the  more  when 
he  caught  his  first  glimpse  of  the  key  considerately  repos- 
ing in  the  lock,  and  felt  hope  crumbling  away.  Adolph 
proved  a  practised  hand  at  these  excursions.  He  went 
noiselessly  to  work.  Within  five  minutes  of  their  sudden 
resolve  they  found  themselves  underneath  the  stars,  and 
compassed  all  around  by  a  straggling  court,  which  led, 
after  many  turns,  into  the  Rue  Miromenil. 

The  street  stretched  before  them,  silent  and  deserted. 
Not  a  soul  appeared  to  be  stirring.  The  Rue  de  Pen- 
thievre — they  were  careful,  to  cross  it  a  long  way  above 
the  barracks — was  empty,  as  also  the  Faubourg  St. 
Honore,  which  they  struck  exactly  opposite  the  British 
embassy.  The  ambassador  and  his  wife,  with  Lord 
Mendril  as  a  cheerful  third  behind  them,  stood  at  one  of 
the  windows  chatting  merrily  together.  It  could  not  be 
that  they  knew  the  cause  of  the  firing,  which  it  was  im- 
possible they  had  not  heard.  Presuming  they  did,  my 
lady  might  still  have  stood  at  the  window,  talking  gaily 
170 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  171 

with  some  irresponsible  and  youthful  friend,  doubtlessly 
reminding  herself  of  the  days  when  she  was  wont  to 
watch  Brock's  benefit  from  a  balcony  of  the  paternal 
mansion,  but  Lord  Threpps  assuredly  would  have  been 
busy  elsewhere.  His  presence  helped  to  reassure  Na- 
poleon. There  was  a  possibility,  after  all,  of  reaching  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde  without  having  first  to  wade  through 
gutters  that  ran  with  blood. 

Things,  however,  thickened  towards  the  bottom  of 
the  street.  They  came  across  companies  of  linesmen, 
all  marching  with  fixed  bayonets,  the  glint  of  which 
restored  Napoleon's  terror  to  its  former  dominion.  At 
times,  too,  a  squadron  of  dragoons  galloped  past  them. 
The  first  such  whirlwind,  it  may  be  remembered  inci- 
dentally, nearly  cause  the  Prince  a  fit.  He  clutched  hold 
of  his  companion's  arm,  and  expressed  the  fervent  hope 
that  they  might  not  discover  that  they  had  committed  a 
blunder.  Mascaut,  in  reply,  pointed  out  that  these 
troops  were  all  bound  in  one  and  the  same  direction — 
towards  the  Place  de  la  Concorde;  and  indeed,  as  far  as 
it  went,  this  sign  was  satisfactory  enough.  From  it  one 
might  reasonably  deduce  that  the  fighting  in  these 
quarters — if  fighting  there  had  been  at  all — was  now  fin- 
ished. The  men,  having  paraded  the  streets  in  accord- 
ance with  the  earlier  part  of  Brisson's  instructions,  were 
on  their  way  to  the  common  rendezvous.  The  attitude 
maintained  by  the  civilian  element  helped  out  this  com- 
forting view.  All  sexes,  all  ages,  all  classes,  stood  about 
the  footways  and  street  corners,  staring  at  the  military 
with  the  completest  apathy.  No  one  interfered  with  the 
soldiers,  and  the  soldiers  interfered  with  no  one.  When 
a  detachment  came  upon  a  crowded  crossing,  it  waited 
till  the  way  was  clear.  Half-battalions  of  cavalry  can- 
tered along,  taking  the  whole  road  as  they  went,  and 
carts  and  carriages  drew  uncomplainingly  to  one  side. 
Godefroy's  proclamations,  too,  which  were  scattered 
here,  there,  and  everywhere  with  the  least  possible  re- 
gard for  vested  interests,  seemed  to  arouse  scarcely  more 
excitement.  Men  read  them  gravely  and  without  com- 
ment, then  turned  to  have  a  fresh  look  at  the  soldiers. 
The  whole  thing  was  eminently  soothing  to  the  nerves. 


172  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Napoleon — always  so  quick  to  fall  under  the  sway  of  the 
prevailing  tone — once  more  took  heart  of  grace.  His 
anxious  face  relaxed  into  a  smile.  He  dropped  his  com- 
rade's arm,  and  bore  himself  alone  in  the  independent 
grandeur  of  his  own  self-sufficing  strength.  He  re- 
marked, more  than  once,  with  an  engaging  smile  the 
entire  absence  of  blood  in  the  gutters  or  of  other  signs  of 
carnage.  He  was  still  a  trifle  puzzled  on  the  score  of 
that  terribly  recurring  roar  of  musketry  which  had  so 
alarmed  him;  but  he  soon  succeeded  in  convincing  him- 
self that  it  had  been  made  with  blank  cartridges,  and 
solely  for  the  purposes  of  intimidation.  The  Engineer 
thought  otherwise,  but  did  not  say  so.  Towards  this 
last-named  individual,  Napoleon  showed  himself  profuse 
in  his  gratitude.  He  declared,  again  and  again,  what  a 
happy  chance  had  lurked  in  Brisson's  choice.  "Without 
you,  my  dear  Mascaut,  as  my  aide-de-camp,  I  should 
probably  never  have  been  here."  He  proceeded  to 
expatiate  at  considerable  length  on  the  advantages  of 
'  being  here  ' ;  among  which  this  was  not  the  least  im- 
portant, that,  at  the  moment  of  victory,  the  Colonel 
commanding  in  chief  would  not  need  send  all  the  way 
to  the  Rue  de  Penthievre.  "  I  shall  be  on  the  spot  to 
take  over  the  reins  at  once,  and  none,  save  a  very  few, 
will  know  anything  about  our  ignominious  sojourn  in  that 
abominable  library." 

"  Gently, "  ventured  Mascaut,  in  reply.  "  You  must 
not  speak  so  loud.  Above  all,  we  ought  not  to  hurry." 

"Ah,  I  forgot." 

They  turned  into  the  Rue  Boissy  d'Anglas  as  one  of 
Douay's  half-batteries  thundered  down  it  towards  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde.  "  Have  they  been  inaction?" 
queried  Napoleon. 

"No,"  replied  Mascaut,  giving  the  guns  a  single 
glance;  and  his  interlocutor  could  have  sung  aloud  for 
joy. 

But  the  crowd  was  becoming  very  much  denser,  as 
well  as  a  great  deal  more  demonstrative.  Cries  for  and 
against  the  new  Pretender  rang  out  in  heated  altercation 
on  every  side.  In  one  corner,  three  men — they  looked 
like  Godefroy's  supers — were  defending  a  proclamation 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  173 

against  half  a  dozen  gens-d'armes.  In  another,  some 
too-active  adherent  of  the  new  order  was  already  in  the 
hands  of  the  police,  and  being  marched  off  to  gaol.  The 
Prince  soon  began  to  feel  his  undisclosed  identity  heavy 
upon  him.  So  heavy,  indeed,  that  it  brought  the  sweat 
to  his  brow.  He  suggested  a  return  to  barracks;  but 
Mascaut  would  not  hear  of  it.  He  looked  back  anx- 
iously over  his  shoulder.  The  lieutenant  urged  him  to 
keep  his  mind  directed  on  their  destination  in  front,  mak- 
ing light  of  the  surging,  shouting  mass  of  human  beings 
that  lay  between. 

"Come,  give  me  your  arm,"  said  the  Engineer;  "and 
we  we  will  carve  our  way  through." 

Napoleon  obeyed  mechanically.  Mascaut  welded  the 
weak  grasp  into  his,  and  forged  ahead.  The  attempt 
was  unavailing.  They  could  not  advance  a  single  step. 
Indeed,  a  sudden  backward  rush  from  the  front  swept 
them  off  their  legs,  carrying  the  two  of  them  a  substan- 
tial distance  in  quite  an  opposite  direction.  By  a  series 
of  superhuman  efforts  Mascaut  dragged  his  master  into 
the  shelter  of  a  convenient  doorway. 

"This  will  never  do,"  he  muttered  uneasily.  "We 
must  reach  the  Place,  somehow  " 

"  Let  us  return  to  the  barracks,"  pleaded  Napoleon. 

"No,  no,  we  must  get  forward,  now  we  have  come 
so  far." 

"  But  Brisson  may  have  already  sent  for  me." 

"All  the  more  reason  why  we  should  reach  him  with 
the  least  possible  delay.  We  will  wait  here  a  minute  or 
so,  perhaps  a  detachment  may  be  passing.  It  can  es- 
cort us." 

"And  I  shall  be  recognized  and  killed." 

"  Not  so  loud,  I  do  implore  you.  As  it  is,  your — you 
are  beginning  to  attract  attention." 

No  detachment  passed,  however.  And  presently  Mas- 
caut decided  to  make  another  attempt,  keeping  this 
time  a  good  way  to  the  left,  and  approaching  the  Place 
from  the  Rue  de  Rivoli.  "  Come  along,"  he  said  un- 
ceremoniously. 

"But  there  has  been  fighting — bloodshed!"  ex- 
claimed Napoleon,  with  a  terrified  look  at  a  couple  of 


174  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

sergents-de-ville  with  bleeding  faces  who  stumbled  past 
them  at  that  minute. 

"Obviously,"  Mascaut  drily  responded. 

Their  first  step  into  the  Place  de  la  Madeleine  showed 
them  where.  A  wagon  belonging  to  the  field-ambulance 
was  drawn  up  a  little  way  to  the  left  of  the  church, 
while  half  a  dozen  bearers  moved  in  couples — like  vul- 
tures, Bonaparte  thought — about  the  open  space.  Across 
the  mouth  of  the  Rue  Royale  stretched  the  debris  of  a 
demolished  barricade.  The  overturned  omnibus  which 
had  formed  its  centrepiece  was  now  smashed  to  atoms, 
and  wellnigh  level  with  the  ground.  A  squad  of  en- 
gineers from  Mascaut's  regiment  guarded  the  remains. 

Pontecoulant,  Minister  of  the  Interior,  stood  hatless 
and  forlorn  upon  the  steps  of  the  portico.  A  small  group 
of  adherents  were  gathered  round  the  great  man's  feet. 
All  looked  ruefully  in  the  direction  of  the  splintered  ve- 
hicle. Poor  fellows,  like  their  leader  they  were  mostly 
more  or  less  hatless  and  dishevelled.  Not  a  few  still 
had  hold  of  some  useless  weapon, — a  broken  sword  or  a 
musket  with  its  barrel  torn  and  twisted  out  of  recogni- 
tion. By  way  of  background,  Godefroy's  sacrilegious 
proclamations  papered  the  fluted  Corinthian  columns;  it 
looked  as  though  the  church  were  up  for  auction. 

"Oh!  "said  the  Lieutenant;  "so  Pontecoulant  was 
the  driver.  Well,  our  men  do  n't  appear  to  have  been 
very  impressed." 

"They  ought  to  have  taken  him  prisoner,"  put  in 
Napoleon.  "  He  will  only  start  another  barricade  some- 
where else." 

"Let  him.  We  can  bowl  it  over  again.  Come  along, 
Monseigneur,  our  troubles  are  at  an  end.  My  men  will 
pass  us  through." 

"Look,"  urged  the  Prince,  "he  has  begun  an  ha- 
rangue. Oh,  dear!  there  '11  be  more  blood  spilt." 

"They  won't  be  such  fools.  Come  along,  I  beg  of 
you.  Brisson  is  probably  waiting  for  us." 

But  Napoleon  would  not  advance  a  step  into  the  arena 
which  lay  between  the  church  and  the  barricade. 

"Don't  you  see?"  he  gasped  a  second  time,  draw- 
ing back  under  the  shelter  of  the  ambulance.  "They 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  175 

will  be  firing  directly.  My  heavens!  What  does  the  fel- 
low mean  by  it?  " 

For  Monsieur  Pontecoulant,  having  spent  a  considera- 
ble time  in  glowering  at  the  military  from  between  his 
folded  arms  and  frowning  brow, — something  after  the 
manner  of  a  magnified  Mr.  Simon  Tappertit, — had  now 
proceeded  to  reprisals.  To  begin  with,  he  shook  his 
fist  menacingly  at  all  whom  it  might  concern. 

It  apparently  did  not  concern  Brisson's  Engineers. 
Not,  indeed,  that  they  could  not  see  him;  for  the  inter- 
vening space,  it  will  be  remembered,  is  small,  and  always 
well  lighted.  Doubtless  their  orders  were  to  take  notice 
of  nothing  short  of  brickbats;  accordingly,  this  little 
outpost  stood  at  ease  among  the  wreckage,  gazing  forth 
upon  Pontecoulant  without  the  least  emotion.  Most  of 
them,  in  all  probability,  were  thinking  about  the  new 
ruler,  whether  he  was  likely  to  go  one  better  than  his 
predecessor,  and  make  it  half  a  bottle  of  wine  each 
man. 

"Cowards!  "  shouted  Pontecoulant. 

"Cowards!"  echoed  his  followers,  looking  the  while 
into  the  master's  face,  like  faithful  dogs. 

"Don't  lurk  behind  that  omnibus, "  continued  Pon- 
tecoulant, rather  figuratively  than  otherwise,  "come  out 
and  fight! " 

"  Come  out  and  fight!  "  chorused  the  others. 

"Produce  your  Pretender!  Produce  him,  I  say!  If 
he  is  man  enough  to  do  it,  let  him  step  forth  into  the 
arena,  and  I  will  plunge  my — my — "  looking  askance  at 
his  umbrella — "  my  knife  into  his  breast.  Caesar!  " 

The  concentrated  bitterness  which  Pontecoulant  threw 
into  this  epithet  was  not  without  its  effect  upon  our  hero. 
"  Let  us  get  away  from  here,"  he  murmured  uneasily. 

"  I  am  ready.  They  are  men  belonging  to  my  own 
company.  It  is  a  most  fortunate  accident." 

"No,  no;  not  to  the  barricade,"  pleaded  Napoleon, 
hanging  back.  "Pontecoulant  will  certainly  catch  us 
before  we  can  reach  them.  His  people  are  in  the  mood 
to  tear  us  limb  from  limb.  Do  you  not  hear  what  he 
says?" 

"I  wish  they  would  put  a  bullet  into  his  windpipe," 


176  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

muttered  Mascaut  savagely.  "  There  is  no  danger,  pro- 
vided we  keep  well  in  the  shadow  of  the  houses." 

"In  that  case,  we  may  very  likely  get  shot.  Please, 
not  the  barricade!  Let  us  creep  round  by  the  back  of 
the  church,  and  get  that  way  into  the  Rue  de  Rivoli.  It 
was  our  original  intention ;  let  us  follow  it,  I  beg  of  you. " 

"Caesar!"  began  Ponte"coulant  anew,  with  a  gulp 
which  clearly  denoted  the  last  earthly  remains  of  a  cough- 
lozenge,  "come  out  into  the  open  and  fight  like  a  man. 
You  are  not  on  the  throne  yet,  do  n't  think  it.  You  have 
collared  Monsieur  le  President,  and  Carache;  but  you 
have  n't  got  Ponte"coulant,  and  you  never  will.  Who  is  it 
that  stands  in  your  way?  Ponte"coulant  does,  the  Minister 
of  the  Interior!  "  The  voice  hurtling  this  defiance  grew 
louder  and  louder,  till  at  last  it  dominated  the  whole 
Place,  penetrating  also  some  way  up  the  boulevards,  and 
drawing  therefrom  a  considerable  addition  to  its  original 
audience. 

"Citizens!"  rang  out  the  clarion  note  again,  after 
another  imperfectly  digested  jujube,  "shall  we  suffer 
ourselves  to  be  intimidated  by  half  a  dozen  hired  assas- 
sins? No — a  thousand  million  times  no!  Back  to  the 
barricade!  " 

"  Back  to  the  barricade!  "  cried  the  citizens  with  one 
voice.  No  one  moved. 

"  The  villains  have  captured  Monsieur.  Carache — 
the  fearless,  lion-hearted  Carache — is  in  their  hands.  I 
was  present  when  they  came  to  seize  him,  and  bear  him 
off  to  the  fetid  dungeon,  where  he  now  lies.  '  Ponte- 
coulant,'  he  said  to  me  hurriedly,  '  this  may  mean  death. 
Good-bye,  old  friend,'  " — the  Minister  gulped  down  a 
sob, — "  'Good-bye,  old  friend.  Into  your  hands  I  com- 
mend our  dear  country.  Let  Paris  swim  in  blood  before 
she  be  suffered  to  prostitute  herself  to  the  yoke  of  Caesar! 
Also,  be  good  enough  to  look  after  my  wife  and  little 
girl.'  My  poor  Carache,"  mused  Pontecoulant,  in  a 
pathetic  aside,  which,  by  the  way,  was  bellowed  out  at 
the  same  high  pitch  as  the  rest  of  his  harangue.  "My 
poor  Carache,  where  art  thou  now?  Dead,  perhaps? 
Yes,  dead!  The  angel-face  is  wreathed  in  marbled  im- 
mortality; the  silver  trumpet-tones  are  still.  But,  citi- 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  177 

zens,  be  not  afraid.  I  am  left.  Paris  shall  swim  in  blood 
before  I  give  her  over  to  this  English  Bonaparte.  You 
may  also  rest  assured  that  I  will  look  after  Carache's 
wife  and  little  girl." 

"  Vive  Pontecoulant!  " 

"You  may  well  applaud  me.  For  to-night,  at  least, 
and  until  this  insurrection  is  quelled,  I  am  in  the  position 
of  dictator.  Back  to  the  barricade,  I  say!  Let  us  recap- 
ture our  omnibus!  Citizens,  the  eyes  of  Europe  are  upon 
you." 

"Do  you  lead  us,  Monsieur,"  suggested  a  voice  from 
among  the  rapidly  increasing  crowd  at  his  feet,  "and  we 
will  follow." 

"  Oh,  no, "  said  Pontecoulant,  shrinking  back  into  the 
shadow  of  the  fluted  columns,  "I  am  bound  to  reserve 
myself  for  higher  things." 

"  But  it  is  useless  going  for  that  omnibus,"  repeated 
the  voice.  "It  is  smashed  to  smithereens." 

"Are  there  no  more  Madeleine  buses  about?"  in- 
quired Pontecoulant,  peering  into  the  gas-lamps  on  either 
side. 

"The  last  bus  has  gone;  you  will  have  to  take  a 
cab,"  shouted  a  humourist. 

"No  ribaldry,  I  beg,"  cried  Pontecoulant  sternly. 
"  Is  there  nothing  we  can  make  use  of?  " 

"  The  ambulance,"  hazarded  one  or  two. 

"  No,  we  must  n't  rake  that.  Let  us  treat  our  enemies 
humanely." 

"These  fools  will  go  on  all  night,"  burst  out  the 
Lieutenant.  '  'I  do  not  mean  to  stay  here  another  minute. ' ' 

"But  not  the  open,  I  implore  you.  Listen,  listen — 
Pontecoulant  and  I  have  met  frequently;  I  honestly 
believe  he  knows  who  I  am.  If  we  are  seen,  I  am  lost. 
I  shall  be  killed  to  a  certainty.  Round  by  the  boule- 
vards, I  entreat!  " 

"No,"  replied  Mascaut,  with  an  imperative  gesture, 
"  I  dare  not  delay  another  minute.  I  ought  not  to  have 
brought  you.  God  knows,  they  may  be  already  waiting 
for  us.  I  shall  get  all  the  blame.  Be  brave;  come 
straight  across  to  the  barricade.  No  one  will  notice." 

Without  further  ado  he  took  Napoleon  by  the  arm, 


178  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

and  advanced  boldly  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  ambu- 
lance into  the  open  space  which  lies  between  the  church 
and  the  Rue  Royale. 

But  they  did  not  know  their  man.  Ponte"coulant  had 
spotted  Mascaut's  uniform  in  the  space  of  a  single 
second.  He  broke  off  in  the  first  word  of  a  fresh  exhor- 
tation, and  pointed  towards  them. 

"  Hullo,"  said  he,  "  what  is  that  hired  assassin  doing 
out  here?  He  is  a  spy." 

"Run!  "  whispered  Mascaut,  but  just  too  late.  The 
crowd  had  already  surged  down  upon  them,  like  some 
great  sea.  It  caught  them  up,  and  swept  them  right  for- 
ward to  Ponte"coulant's  feet.  The  Minister  placed  his 
umbrella  against  his  hip  as  though  it  were  a  sceptre,  and 
prepared  to  pass  sentence. 

"What  are  you  doing  this  side  of  the  omnibus?  "  he 
asked  severely  of  Mascaut. 

"To  the  lamp-post  with  the  traitors!"  cried  some 
among  the  crowd. 

"Leave  me  to  deal  with  them,"  said  Pontecoulant 
magnificently.  The  Minister  was  clean-shaven,  and  red 
and  bloated,  like  a  butcher  or  a  successful  lawyer. 
With  his  gingham  poised  upon  his  right  hip,  he  looked 
regality  itself. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here?  "  he  repeated ;  "answer, 
bandit!  " 

Lieutenant  Mascaut,  with  admirable  promptitude,  had 
already  decided  upon  a  course  of  action.  He  drew  him- 
self up  to  his  full  height,  and  looked  Pontecoulant 
straight  in  the  face  with  an  air  of  great  disdain. 

"I  do  not  know  who  you  maybe,"  he  was  beginning, 
when  a  man  in  the  crowd  shouted  out  that  he  had  the 
same  uniform  as  the  pigs  at  the  barricades. 

"That  settles  it,"  said  Pontecoulant.  "You  are 
spies.  I  am  dictator:  the  Republic  looks  to  me  for 
safety.  I  have  no  time  to  waste  over  spies.  Where  are 
the  sergents-de-ville?  I  saw  some  only  a  moment 
ago." 

Half  a  dozen  forlorn  and  puny  policemen  were  pushed 
forward  to  Ponte"coulant's  feet.  All  of  them,  without  a 
doubt,  had  long  ago  retired  into  private  life.  They 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  179 

resembled  sheep  without  a  shepherd,  wearing  the  woe- 
begone expression  which  marks  the  face  of  that  useful 
animal  when  publicity  is  thrust  upon  it. 

"The  little  fat  man  first,  if  you  please,"  cried  the 
dictator.  "Now,  then,  malefactors. "  In  obedience  to 
this  command,  four  of  the  sergents-de-ville  hurried  up 
the  steps  and  closed  round  the  stupefied  Napoleon.  They 
were  recovering  their  agreeable  habits  under  the  influ- 
ence of  business,  hustling  our  hero  with  quite  unneces- 
sary violence. 

"Lock  him  up  anywhere,"  shouted  the  Minister. 
"  Make  way  for  the  Republic!  " 

And  with  this  send-off  the  little  procession  started  on 
its  way,  Napoleon  well  in  the  middle,  bewildered  and 
quite  passive.  His  brain  had  sunk  into  semi-somnolence. 
He  heard  the  corporal  in  charge  mutter  to  his  compan- 
ions something  about  the  violon  in  the  Chapelle  quarter; 
but  he  took  no  notice.  He  felt  conscious  that  they  were 
moving  northward,  steadily  northward,  with  their  backs 
forever  turned  upon  the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  But  it 
did  not  add  to  the  bitterness  of  his  spirit.  Perhaps  it 
could  not.  The  One  Hour  of  life  was  speeding  away, — 
and  how!  Side  by  side,  in  sharply  contrasted  pictures, 
whose  framing  was  his  anguish-laden  heart,  he  saw  Bris- 
son's  great  army  drawn  up  and  waiting  to  acclaim  him 
Emperor,  and  these  four  undersized  thief-catchers,  who 
held  him  tight.  He  compared  the  gilded  throne,  the 
ermined  robes,  delights  almost  within  his  grasp,  with 
the  Round  House  which  had  actually  grasped  him. 
Above  all,  he  contrasted  the  to-morrow  which  he  might 
have  had — which  any  other  man  in  his  position  would 
have  had — with  the  real  fate  that  was  in  store.  This 
wretched  blunder  of  his  meant  the  sacrifice  of  all  the 
promised  pomp  and  wealth  and  power;  substituting  for 
them  the  ruin  of  his  followers  and  total  self-obliteration. 
In  any  case,  the  latter.  For,  if  Brisson  managed  to  keep 
firm  hold  of  victory,  despite  his  own  compulsory 
defection,  then  Prince  Victor  would  reap  the  benefit — 
Prince  Victor,  or  that  unwholesome  Felix.  Men  do  not 
wait  very  long  in  sudden  emergencies.  When  the  author 
of  a  coup  d'etat  chooses  to  disappear  within  the  recesses 


:8o  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

of  an  unknown  Round  House  at  the  psychological 
moment,  the  next  best  man  is  taken.  To-morrow  he 
would  slink  forth  into  the  daylight,  to  be  received  by 
mankind  with  thunders  of  Gargantuan  laughter.  As  for 
the  rest  of  life — but  he  really  could  not  take  contempla- 
tion beyond  the  next  twelve  hours.  The  old  days  in 
Pimlico,  when  the  impossible  was  forever  dogging  his 
actual  condition,  had  nothing  in  them  so  terrible  as  this. 
Like  the  gentleman  in  the  "Jackdaw  of  Rheims  "  he 
cursed  every  one  and  everything, — Brisson,  for  having 
left  him  at  home;  Mascaut,  for  bringing  him  out; 
himself,  for  staying  at  home  and  coming  out.  The 
merest  trifle  which  could  be  said  to  have  contributed  to 
this  fiasco  became  anathema.  The  dinner  at  Jervis's 
Restaurant,  Lohengrin,  the  night  on  the  Embankment — 
if  a  night  in  the  open,  anywhere,  can  be  called  a  trifle. 
Indeed,  this  all-embracing  combination  extended  to  life 
itself.  While  round  it,  and  above  and  below,  there  floated 
the  listless  apathy  of  utter  despair. 

Their  northward  course  carried  them  by  degrees  into 
regions  that  were  comparatively  deserted.  The  firing 
had  ceased  a  considerable  time.  The  centres  were 
being  choked  by  an  ever-increasing  multitude,  curious  to 
know  who  had  been  fighting  and  who  had  won. 

The  farther,  too,  the  sergents-de-ville  got  away  from 
Ponte"coulant,  the  more  abrupt  became  their  manners. 
It  was  quite  evident  they  thought  small-beer  of  their 
captive;  and  they  contributed  their  little  mite  to  his 
discomfort  with  an  abundance  of  zeal. 

"  Walk  up,  you  rebel,"  growled  the  Corporal,  kicking 
Napoleon  savagely.  "If  only  we  hurry  up  with  this 
fool,  we  can  get  back  and  see  some  of  the  fun." 

"Devil  take  your  fun,"  said  the  left-hand  man 
behind,  "I  want  none  of  it.  Give  me  bed  and  a  pipe 
at  this  time  of  night." 

"  You  are  a  lazy  dog.  Promotion  does  n't  come  to 
'  lay-abeds. '  " 

"  No;  it  goes  to  the  men  with  pretty  wives." 

"Don't  be  insolent,"  said  the  Corporal,  jogging 
Bonaparte's  arm. 

"You  are  right,"  put  in  the  Corporal's  companion  in 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  181 

front, — Hauptman  was   his  name, — "and  the  Corporal 
here  knows  it  as  well  as  anyone." 

"I  won't  stand  rudeness  from  you,  at  all  events," 
said  the  officer  in  charge,  turning  fiercely  on  Haupt- 
man, and  giving  the  Prince  another  jog.  "You  two  are 
lazy  hounds,  always  thinking  about  your  sleep  and  your 
stomachs.  Both  of  you  like  to  believe  that  promotion 
is  n't  for  personal  merit.  That  's  the  way  with  all  you 
lazy  men."  He  appealed  to  the  fourth,  who  brought  up 
the  rear,  upon  Napoleon's  right:  "You  agree  with  me, 
do  you  not?  "  But  the  other  shook  his  head. 

The  Prince  began  to  see  the  faintest  glimpse  of  day- 
light. He  roused  himself  from  his  lethargy. 

"  Suppose  I  could  tell  you  of  a  means  of  promotion 
for  those  without  pretty  wives?"  he  commenced  in  a 
hesitating  voice.  He  looked  to  be  rudely  silenced,  and 
was  agreeably  surprised. 

Three   of   them    softened    perceptibly    and    at   once. 
The  left-hand  man  behind  said  plaintively: 
"  Ah,  we  should  like  to  hear  of  that." 
"  Nothing  simpler, "  replied  his  Highness.      "By now 
the  new  Emperor  is  proclaimed.      I   don't  mind   telling 
you,  I  am  one  of  his  chief  adherents.     Release  me,  and 
I  promise  you  not  one  of  you  shall  be  forgotten." 

Two  of  them  became  violent  Bonapartists  on  the 
spot.  Hauptman  remained  doubtful.  The  Corporal  was 
altogether  hostile. 

"  What  do  you  say,  comrades?"  cried  the  left-hand 
man.  "I  myself  am  perfectly  willing." 

"You  shall  all  be  commissaries,  with  a  handsome 
present  into  the  bargain,"  murmured  the  tempter. 

"If  only  we  could  believe  him,"  groaned  Hauptman. 
"That's  exactly  what  we  can't  do,"  snapped  the 
Corporal.  "  Keep  your  mouth  shut,"  roughly,  to  Napo- 
leon. "  I  am  in  charge  here,  and  I  won't  have  you  tam- 
pering with  my  men.  I  warn  you,  if  you  try  to  escape, 
I  will  run  you  through  the  body." 

"You  think  yourself  no  end  of  a  fellow,"  grumbled 
Hauptman,  "simply  because  you  happen  to  be  a  cor- 
poral. If  we  make  up  our  minds  to  let  this  gentleman 
go,  we  sha'  n't  permit  you  to  stop  us." 


182  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  Hauptman,  I  shall  report  you,  if  you  don't  hold 
your  tongue."  With  these  words,  the  Corporal  drew  his 
sword.  And  that  clinched  the  attitude  which  he  had  as- 
sumed. Napoleon  was  hurried  along  at  a  redoubled 
pace,  not  another  word  being  said  about  his  tempting 
offer. 

But  aid  was  at  hand — aid  from  an  altogether  unlooked- 
for  quarter.  The  silence,  so  long  surrounding  them, 
fell  precipitately  before  a  confused  murmur  of  voices 
which  grew  as  they  approached  the  Gare  du  Nord,  until 
it  outrivalled  Babel  itself.  And  an  abrupt  turn  brought 
them  out  on  top  of  some  forty-five  to  fifty  ruffians  who 
were  advancing  in  open  order  over  the  entire  breadth  of 
the  road. 

These  no  sooner  caught  sight  of  our  hero  and  his  es- 
cort than  they  dropt  what,  it  seems,  had  been  merely  a 
desultory  conversation  on  current  topics,  and  commenced 
shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices: 

"Vive  1'Empereur  Napoleon  IV!  Vive  Bonaparte!  " 

The  Prince  started  into  life  again.  He  braced  him- 
self for  a  final  effort.  So  did  the  Corporal.  "  Draw!  " 
the  latter  whispered  to  his  companions.  They  paid  no 
heed. 

"Help!  "  shouted  the  captive,  "help!  in  the  Empe- 
ror's name!  "  His  eyes  lit  upon  the  unmistakable  form, 
— the  round,  unwieldy,  Falstaff  figure,  which,  though 
seen  only  once,  could  never  be  forgotten. 

"Godefroy!  Godefroy!  You  know  who  I  am.  Res- 
cue me,  I  pray!  " 

"Who  calls  me?"  said  the  claqueur,  shouldering  his 
way  into  the  little  cortege  without  the  least  regard  for 
the  Corporal's  sword;  "why,  bless  me  if  it  ain't  little 
Bonaparte  himself!  Come  on,  lads!  "and  Godefroy, 
who  was  a  man  of  action,  sent  the  policeman  sprawling 
to  one  side.  The  three  others  fell  away  readily  enough. 
In  this  manner,  then,  our  hero  passed  at  one  step  from 
the  depths  of  despair  to  the  command  of  fifty  enthusias- 
tic, if  unkempt,  individuals,  who  flocked  round  and  com- 
menced to  stare  at  him  with  open  mouths. 

Anatole  Godefroy  was  not  among  the  least  surprised. 
He  surveyed  Napoleon  from  head  to  foot. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  183 

"How  the  deuce  did  you  get  into  this  plight?"  he  asked 
abruptly.  Bonaparte  was  on  the  point  of  retailing  the 
whole  history,  but  the  other  stopped  him. 

"  Is  Brisson  beaten?  " 

"No.     I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  has  won." 

"Then  come  along  men:  before  you  have  lost 
thrones  through  dawdling." 

He  motioned  the  Prince  to  the  place  of  honour  upon 
his  right,  giving  the  signal  at  the  same  minute  to  re- 
sume the  onward  march  towards  the  boulevards  and  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde. 

They  followed  the  route  which  Napoleon  had  lately 
traversed  in  captivity.  The  streets  grew  more  crowded 
as  they  advanced.  And  his  nerves,  hardly  equal  to  such 
sudden  changes,  either  of  fortune  or  of  attendant  cir- 
cumstances, tightened  by  leaps  and  bounds.  The  gang 
of  organized  partisans  was  making  noise  enough  to  wake 
the  dead.  "Vive  Bonaparte!  Vive  1'Empereur!  " 
"A  bas  La  Republique!  "  they  shouted  with  wearisome 
iteration.  Soon,  too,  the  procession  fell  in  with  other 
gangs,  all  equally  demonstrative  and  unclean. 

"  I  have  done  my  work  well?  "  suggested  the  Prince's 
stout  companion,  complacently  smiling. 

"  Too  well,"  was  the  reply  which  the  latter's  heart 
tempted  him  to  make. 

He  had  a  holy  horror  of  anything  in  the  nature  of 
bathos.  What  with  organized  hordes  of  claqueurs  and 
legitimately  inquisitive  citizens,  his  army — a  band  no 
longer — was  swelling  at  every  corner.  Suppose  they 
should  reach  the  heart  of  the  city  only  to  find  it  in  the 
hands  of  government  troops!  He  shuddered  at  the 
sight  of  their  ridiculous  figures — he,  with  Godefroy  as 
his  knight  behind  him. 

This  fear  was  not  without  its  effect  upon  his  pace. 
"Hurry,  hurry!  "  Godefroy  urged  more  than  once,  "we 
still  have  a  long  way  to  go."  The  Prince  sometimes 
suggested  sending  a  scout  in  advance,  but  the  other 
always  laughed  at  the  idea.  "Not  the  slighest  use," 
would  be  the  invariable  reply,  "we  must  go  in  and  win, 
whatever  may  have  happened  to  Brisson." 

The  crush  in  the  boulevards  was  terrible. 


184  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Thousands  upon  thousands  were  hurrying  forward  to 
the  selfsame  goal.  An  unnatural  silence  brooded  over 
this  close-packed  throng.  The  mercenaries  still  con- 
tinued shouting;  but  the  effect  proved  truly  piteous 
among  the  myriads  who  simply  looked  at  them  and 
wondered. 

There  was  no  anger,  no  signs  of  hostility  against  his 
cause,  no  enthusiasm  for  the  Republic, — nothing  except 
one  all-pervading  bewilderment,  coupled  with  an  univer- 
sal desire  to  get  forward  and  see  what  was  actually  hap- 
pening. 

Napoleon  blushed  to  find  himself  in  such  disreputable 
company  among  a  crowd  so  silent  and  respectable.  But 
his  phalanx  went  boisterously  forward, — forging  ahead 
slowly  but  surely,  like  some  great  ship  that  fights  on 
against  heavy  seas. 

Godefroy's  "get-up"  upon  this  memorable  occasion  was 
likewise  of  a  kind  to  attract  attention.  His  substantial 
form  and  well-worn  broadcloth  were  tied  with  waist-belts 
and  cross-belts  and  shoulder-belts  and  satchel-thongs 
and  sabretache-thongs,  and  thongs  of  all  sorts  and 
shapes  and  sizes.  Wherever  he  could  hang  a  thong,  he 
hung  one.  And  each  strap  had  its  purpose,  inasmuch  as 
he  carried  field-glasses,  a  brandy-flask,  a  leathern  sand- 
wich-case, a  folded  overcoat,  and  what  looked  suspi- 
ciously like  a  second  pair  of  pantaloons.  His  weapons, 
moreover,  betokened  a  catholicity  of  taste  highly  cred- 
itable to  a  law-abiding  citizen.  A  Roman  dirk,  gar- 
nished with  the  cavalry  sabretache  aforesaid,  and  which 
had  obviously  done  duty  in  "Anthony  and  Cleopatra," 
wobbled  upon  his  hip.  Two  pistols  of  a  blunderbuss  pat- 
tern, from  "Thermidor,"  adorned  his  waist.  A  net — 
whether  for  his  enemies  or  edibles  it  is  not  in  the  power 
of  this  chronicle  to  say — balanced  the  dirk  upon  the 
other  side.  His  Wellingtons  were  of  enormous  dimen- 
sions, and  one  of  them  carried  a  brass  spur  which  jin- 
gled. The  Panama  hat  which  crowned  this  interesting 
figure  had  a  conscript's  ticket — also  a  "property" — in- 
serted in  the  broad  black  silk  band.  He  might  have 
been  on  his  way  to  Moscow,  or  marauding  across  the 
Rhine. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  185 

And  so  they  reached  the  Madeleine.  Monsieur  Ponte- 
coulant  no  longer  dominated  the  Place.  The  little  out- 
post guarding  the  mouth  of  the  Rue  Royale  was  with- 
drawn, and  that  thoroughfare  abandoned  to  a  multitude 
denser  and  more  silent  than  any  they  had  yet  encoun- 
tered. It  covered  every  inch  of  ground,  omnibus  and 
all. 

Godefroy  ordered  a  halt  in  front  of  the  church.  He 
wanted  it  badly.  He  shifted  his  belts  and  mopped  his 
brow,  which  was  glistening  under  the  gaslight,  and 
ascended  to  the  portals  to  have  a  look  along  the  Rue 
Royal,  and  came  down  therefrom  with  a  groan,  half  sin- 
cere, half  comic,  and  went  up  again  to  have  another 
look,  this  time  through  his  field-glasses,  and  redescended 
as  depressed  as  ever.  He  then  proceeded  to  refresh 
himself  with  sandwiches  and  neat  brandy,  pressing  both 
upon  his  companion  with  a  warmth  which  grew  in  direct 
proportion  to  Napoleon's  resolve  not  to  take  nourish- 
ment of  any  kind. 

"Now,  lads,"  he  merely  remarked,  when  this  repast 
was  satisfactorily  concluded,  "  on  we  go." 

The  thing  was  easier  said  than  done.  They  flung 
themselves  in  one  great  mass,  after  the  fashion  of 
a  battering-ram,  upon  the  closely  knit  throng  which 
blocked  their  passage.  They  shoved,  .and  strained,  and 
swore,  and  shouted, — at  the  outset  with  only  the  slen- 
derest results.  However,  in  matters  of  this  kind,  the 
first  inch  is  everything.  Once  in  motion,  the  effort  is  to 
stop,  not  to  go  forward;  accordingly  they  went  forward, 
fighting  and  cursing  to  the  uttermost.  Of  the  thousands 
present,  only  Godefroy  and  the  Prince  himself  had  space 
wherein  to  move.  Their  bodyguard  took  care  of  that. 
The  narrow  circle  round  them  never  lessened.  What- 
ever the  condition  of  their  minds,  they  now  moved  for- 
ward with  all  the  outward  composure  of  Egyptian  prin- 
cesses. 

On  and  on  they  went,  through  denser  masses,  and 
amid  a  silence  growing  ever  more  terrible,  until  they 
were  rewarded  by  the  first  glimpse  of  their  destination. 
The  sea  of  human  beings,  wherein  they  were  battling, 
extended  as  far  as  the  Ministry  of  Marine.  At  that 


i86  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

point  a  breakwater,  in  the  shape  of  .some  thirty  cuiras- 
siers, effectually  barred  all  further  progress;  and  Napo- 
leon, catching  the  glint  of  the  helmets,  felt,  with  a  burst 
of  joy,  that  his  task  was  wellnigh  ended.  The  others 
saw  it  as  well.  They  fought  with  redoubled  vigour;  it 
proved  necessary  enough;  for  the  wave  which  guards  the 
harbour  bar  is  always  the  most  formidable.  This  caught 
them,  and  was  like  to  smash  and  scatter  them;  but  they 
clung  together  with  wonderful  tenacity.  A  final  wrench 
landed  their  passenger  in  safety. 

The  soldiers  of  the  detachment,  save  for  a  few,  busy 
backing  their  horses  into  the  crowd,  sat  dejected  and 
motionless.  The  lieutenant  commanding,  who  had  sta- 
tioned himself  at  the  corner  of  the  Ministry,  kept  rising 
in  his  stirrups  to  peer  anxiously  in  the  direction  of  the 
fountains.  Twice  did  Napoleon  observe  him  sink  back 
from  his  attitude  with  a  gesture  of  disgust,  which  prob- 
ably did  not  fail  of  its  effect  upon  the  troopers.  Beyond 
them,  the  Place  was  packed  with  infantry.  These,  their 
white  faces  in  strong  relief  against  the  night,  were 
turned  towards  the  Prince,  and  one  and  all  wore  the 
look  of  weariness  that  follows  hope  deferred. 

Godefroy  summed  up  the  position  in  a  single  sentence : 
"But  for  me,"  said  he,  comfortably,  "the  curtain  would 
have  fallen  without  the  prima  donna.  Back,  boys!  we 
can  manage  alone  now.  Monseigneur,  keep  well  behind 
me." 

With  these  directions,  he  drew  Napoleon  out  of  the 
crowd,  and  made  straight  for  the  lieutenant.  The 
troopers  seemed  too  dejected  to  take  any  notice;  and 
the  two  men  were  almost  as  close  to  the  young  officer  as 
the  head  of  his  own  horse  before  he  saw  them. 

"Well,  Lieutenant, "  Godefroy  said,  softly,  "  here  we 
are!" 

The  cuirassier  gave  a  single  hurried  glance  in  their 
direction.  It  was  sufficient.  His  face  broke  at  once 
into  a  laugh  of  happiness.  He  plucked  his  sword  from 
its  scabbard,  and  waving  it  high  aloft,  shouted: 

"The  Emperor!  " 

"The  Emperor!  "  the  battalion  opposite  took  up  the 
cry,  and  passed  it  on  behind  them,  and  to  the  left  and 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  187 

right.  "The  Emperor!  "  rolled  back  like  thunder  from 
beyond  the  Obelisk,  the  Avenue  des  Champs  Elysee,  and 
the  Cours  de  la  Reine.  The  excitement,  so  long  pent  up, 
resulted  in  a  scene  of  indescribable  enthusiasm.  Those 
who  had  sight  of  the  lost  one  did  everything  short  of 
break  their  ranks  to  testify  to  their  devotion,  while  those 
who  had  not,  nearly  committed  the  same  unpardonable 
breach  of  discipline  in  their  desire  to  be  equally  fa- 
voured. 

Meanwhile  a  corporal  of  horse  had  dismounted  at  a 
sign  from  the  Lieutenant,  and  now  stood  holding  his 
stirrup  in  readiness  for  Napoleon.  And  the  latter,  who 
was  quite  dazed  by  the  noise,  and  the  serried  ranks 
hovering  among  shadows  on  every  side,  suffered  him- 
self to  be  hoisted  into  the  saddle. 

"Come,  Monseigneur,"  the  officer  said  laconically, 
"Colonel  Brisson  will  be  rejoiced  to  see  you." 

And  then  for  a  time,  with  the  Prince  at  least,  all 
things  passed  into  dreamland.  He  was  dimly  conscious 
of  being  carried  along  in  the  Lieutenant's  wake  through 
lines  upon  lines  of  shouting  men.  Their  cries, — "Vive 
Napoleon  IV!  "  for  the  most  part, — which  were  absolute- 
ly unintermittent,  sounded  in  his  ears  like  the  far-away 
roar  of  the  sea.  The  plash  of  fountains  mingled.  So, 
too,  the  silence  which,  dazed  as  he  was,  he  knew  brooded 
over  remaining  Paris.  Presently  he  found  himself  un- 
derneath the  Obelisk  and  among  a  throng  of  officers. 
They  were  shouting  with  the  rest,  waving  their  swords 
and  helmets  and  kepis,  stretching  out  to  grasp  his  hand, 
which  he  extended  with  equal  impassiveness  to  all  who 
wanted  it,  and  a  few  of  them  even  patting  him  upon 
the  back,  in  an  excess  of  delight.  Indeed,  he  only  re- 
covered consciousness  when  he  discovered  Brisson  lean- 
ing forward  half  across  his  horse,  with  glistening  eyes, 
clasping  both  his  hands  in  his. 


Chapter  XII 


"At  last!  "  said  the  Colonel,  with  a  sigh  of  immense 
relief;  "we  thought  you  were  never  coming.  Sire,  this 
escapade  of  yours  has  nearly  ruined  us." 

"I  am  sorry,"  murmured  Napoleon  contritely. 
Nevertheless  the  fact  that  the  first  words  addressed  to 
him  as  Emperor  contained  a  reproof  did  not  pass  un- 
noticed. Without  attempt  at  rejoinder,  he  turned  to 
survey  the  faces  of  those  gathered  round  him. 

Most  proved  familiar.  Klein  and  Douay  were  there, 
the  latter  evidently  well  satisfied  with  the  results  ob- 
tained from  his  new  guns.  General  Breheville  also, 
neat  as  ever,  and  Brigadier  Marchmont,  who,  though  he 
shouted  with  the  loudest,  hardly  yet  looked  altogether 
convinced.  Colonel  Bonvalet  of  Cuirassiers  made  a 
fifth,  besides  being  the  most  conspicuous  figure  present, 
as  he  sat,  mum  and  glum,  scowling  resentfully  at  his 
sovereign  lord,  newly  arrived  in  more  respects  than 
one.  His  brow  of  thunder  caught  Brisson's  eye. 
"Look,"  the  latter  continued,  the  faintest  vestige  of  a 
smile  passing  across  his  face,  "the  Colonel  there,  has 
been  half  over  Paris  to  find  you.  We  were  beginning  to 
think  seriously  about  proclaiming  Felix." 

"I  am  truly  sorry,"  the  other  repeated,  leaving  the 
scrutiny  of  the  staff  for  a  wider  view,  which  almost 
drove  him  back  into  his  former  dazed  condition.  To 
his  unaccustomed  eye  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  French 
army — not  alone  the  Paris  garrison — were  assembled 
to  acclaim  him  Emperor.  Bonvalet's  Cuirassiers  and 
another  mounted  regiment,  that  he  took  for  dragoons, 
though  not  altogether  certain,  occupied  the  lines  near- 
est at  hand.  Beyond  them,  interminable  columns  of  in- 
fantry stretched  far  along  the  Avenue  des  Champs 
1 88 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  189 

Elyse"es,  becoming  lost  at  last  in  the  mingled  blur  of 
illuminated  darkness.  Leftwards,  towards  the  river,  the 
sight  of  serried  ranks  rose  tier  above  tier  as  far  as  eye 
could  reach. 

All  the  while,  too,  the  shouting  continued,  and  the 
noise  was  deafening.  The  period  of  expectancy  had 
been  too  long  drawn  out  to  suffer  the  welcome  to  be 
anything  else.  The  men  roared  and  bellowed,  and 
waved  their  arms  in  a  frantic  demonstration  that  prom- 
ised to  be  endless;  and  when,  presently,  Colonel  Brisson 
felt  that  the  time  had  come  for  a  renewal  of  silence,  he 
found  it  no  easy  job  to  get  it. 

But,  thanks  to  indefatigable  aides-de-camp,  who 
spurred  forth  in  all  directions,  it  came  at  last.  To 
Napoleon  it  proved  even  more  oppressive  that  the  fore- 
going uproar.  For  one  thing,  it  disclosed  the  unpleasant 
fact  that  the  civilian  element,  which  looked  on  from  the 
Rue  Royale,  was  ominously  still.  He  tried  to  comfort 
himself  with  the  assurance  that  it  must  be  due  to  one  of 
Brisson's  messengers.  But  the  Colonel  dispelled  the 
illusion. 

"Those  pigs  don't  seem  over-enthusiastic,"  said  he. 
"  No,"  was  the  dubious  response. 
"Well,  they  do  n't  signify  one  way  or  the  other.     I 
congratulate  your  Majesty,"  he  added  presently,  by  way 
of    afterthought,    "on   the    complete   success    of    your 
plans. " 

"  We  shall  first  have  to  hear  what  the  provinces  say," 
Marchmont  murmured  from  behind. 
"I  am  not  frightened  about  them." 
"  Clisserole  willbe.  sick,"   simpered   General   Brehe- 
ville;   "and  the  President  too.     I  wonder  how  the  dear 
old  fellow  takes  it.     Bonvalet,  you  can  tell  us." 

"No,  I  can't,"  said  the  Cuirassier  brusquely.  "Bris- 
son," turning  to  the  first  speaker,  "  I  do  n't  see  the  force 
of  prolonging  this  business  indefinitely." 

"That  is  for  me  to  say,"  Brisson  rejoined. 
"  I  know,  I  know.     All  the  same,  the  men  have  been 
introduced  to  his  Majesty  and  have  had  a  good  look  at 
him,  and  it  is  high  time  they  got  back  to  hold  the  streets 
and  railway  stations." 


190  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"You  must  be  good  enough  to  take  your  orders  from 
me." 

"Thanks,  I  've  got  them  already,"  replied  Bonvalet, 
not  in  the  least  abashed.  "So,  if  you  are  quite  done 
with  the  Emperor,  I  will  convey  him  back  to  barracks. 
That  is,  provided  he  do  n't  prefer  to  return  the  way  he 
came,"  and  Bonvalet  glanced  scornfully  at  the  Prince. 

The  prospect  did  not  by  any  means  commend  itself 
to  Napoleon.  He  suffered  himself  to  be  betrayed  into  a 
plaintive  appeal: 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  to  go  back  to  those  horrible  barracks, 
am  I?" 

Bre"heville  smiled  significantly  for  the  Brigadier's 
benefit,  who  took  no  notice,  but  went  on  biting  his  nails. 
As  for  Colonel  Brisson,  he  made  no  answer. 

Napoleon  repeated  the  question. 

"  That  was  the  idea,"  the  Engineer  said  at  last,  after 
a  prolonged  pause.  "Your  Majesty  needs  rest." 

"  Not  more  than  any  one  else.  I  do  not  want  to  lie 
sleeping  while  others  are  working  for  me.  Indeed,  I 
could  not  sleep.  I  want  to  remain  in  the  saddle." 

Bonvalet  gave  a  grunt  of  impatience. 

"The  coup  d1  e'tat  is  not  ended  yet,"  said  Brisson 
very  gently;  "and  until  it  is,  your  Majesty  ought  to 
obey  orders. " 

"  Meanwhile  we  are  wasting  precious  time." 

"Be  quiet,  Bonvalet,"  from  Breheville.  "First  of 
all,  sire,  we  propose  that  you  should  address  the  troops. 
After  that,  you  positively  must  go  home,  as  Brisson  bids 
you." 

This  was  a  new  horror.  The  young  man  looked  about 
in  absolute  consternation.  "  How  can  I  possibly  make 
myself  heard  by  these  thousands?  "  he  gasped. 

Breheville  speedily  reassured  him.  "We  do  n't  ex- 
pect that  of  you,"  he  remarked  with  unvarnished  conde- 
scension. "  If  a  couple  of  regiments  or  so  manage  to 
catch  what  you  are  saying,  it  will  be  ample;  we  shall 
feel  more  than  satisfied. ' 

"  But  what  in  the  world  am  I  to  talk  about?  "  queried 
Napoleon,  not  yet  sufficiently  recovered  to  remember 
that  talking  was  among  his  strongest  points. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  191 

"Oh,  the  usual  thing.  Say  that  your  sole  motive  in 
this  business  is  the  glory  of  our  dear  France." 

"Also,"  Marchmont  hazarded,  "that  you  mean  to 
retire,  unless  the  country  is  genuinely  willing  to  have 
you. " 

Bre"heville  brushed  the  other  aside  with  a  gesture  of 
contempt.  "Come,  Brisson,"  he  said  simply,  "lead 
off.  We  have  no  time  to  spare.  Bonvalet  was  right 
just  now. " 

The  Colonel  in  command  rode  forth  from  under  the 
shelter  of  the  Obelisk.  His  staff,  with  Napoleon  in  their 
midst,  kept  close  behind  him;  and  in  such  order  the  lit- 
tle cavalcade  passed  along  the  front  of  Bonvalet's  regi- 
ment. The  men  showed  some  desire  to  recommence 
cheering.  But  their  chief  quickly  silenced  them  with 
objurgations  which  carried  the  leaders  through  silent 
ranks  long  after  they  had  left  the  Cuirassiers. 

It  turned  out  that  a  hollow  square  of  infantry,  drawn 
up  in  a  corner  of  the  "place"  and  round  one  of  the 
statues  (which  Napoleon  did  n't  recognize,  but  hoped 
was  Strasburg),  was  to  be  "  urbs  et  orbs  "  for  the  recep- 
tion of  his  remarks.  His  companions  brought  him  so 
far;  then  drew  back  and  left  him  solitary  at  the  foot  of 
the  pedestal,  with  nothing  in  his  mind  but  the  over- 
whelming desire  to  be  home  in  bed.  Whip  himself  as  he 
would,  he  could  not  rise  to  the  occasion.  During  that 
evening,  he  had  been  in  turns  nervous,  impatient,  rest- 
less, nervous  again,  dazed,  and  absolutely  alarmed ;  but 
he  could  not  get  hold  of  the  merest  spark  of  heroic  ex- 
citement that  should  pass  from  him  in  a  torrent  of  glow- 
ing words  to  galvanize  his  immediate  audience  into  mad 
enthusiasm,  and  thus  infect  the  thousands  beyond,  as 
well  as  that  moody,  sinister  Rue  Royale,  which  was  for- 
ever in  his  thoughts.  How  could  he  possibly  throw 
himself  heart  and  soul  into  the  present  situation? — for  he 
was  quite  unable  to  realize  it,  and  it  seemed  to  him  the 
vaguest,  most  fleeting  of  dreams.  The  result  might 
have  been  different  had  he  had  any  part  in  the  actual 
fighting,  and  lost  an  arm,  say,  or  a  leg;  or  made  some 
other  tangible  sacrifice  by  way  of  exchange  for  the  crown 
which  every  one  assured  him  was  now  his. 


192  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

So  he  suffered  his  tongue  to  carry  him  languidly  into 
the  midst  of  those  generalities  and  commonplaces  tradi- 
tion prescribes  as  befitting  these  occasions.  His  audi- 
ence did  not  help  him.  In  truth,  they  could  not:  his 
platitudes  were  not  of  a  sort  to  kindle  enthusiasm.  He 
went  on  and  on  through  chilling  silence,  and  got  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  mire.  His  only  accompaniment — 
not  exactly  a  reassuring  one — came  from  the  horses 
behind  him,  who  began  to  fidget  under  their  restless 
riders. 

With  a  single  striking  exception,  jejuneness  is  the 
badge  of  all  monarchs;  and  Napoleon,  had  he  been 
firmly  established,  might,  by  this  performance  only,  have 
shown  his  fitness  to  be  numbered  among  the  brotherhood 
of  viceregents,  and  have  won  the  usual  loyal  applause. 
But  he  was  n't  firmly  established,  so — so  he  went  on  and 
on  through  chilling  silence  and  got  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  mire.  It  is  on  such  occasions  that  your  orator 
finds  the  value  of  insensate  things.  Our  hero,  in  the 
midst  of  an  interminable  sentence  about  abiding  by  the 
verdict  of  a  plebiscite — a  sentence  which  he  dare  not  fin- 
ish, even  if  he  had  known  how  to — cast  his  eyes  above 
him,  as  a  relief,  perhaps,  from  the  hollow  square,  and 
caught  a  full  view  of  the  statue,  which  he  hoped  was 
Strasburg,  but  did  n't  recognize.  That  was  enough. 
The  plebiscite  was  abruptly  abandoned  and  a  more 
promising  topic  taken  in  its  stead. 

"Soldiers!  "  he  cried,  with  a  gesture  not  altogether 
ineffective,  "Strasburg  looks  down  upon  you.  In  her 
stone  image,  under  the  shadow  of  which  we  stand,  the 
city  hears  you.  I  can  well  believe  that  at  this  moment 
her  citizens  are  wakeful  and  watching,  knowing  naught 
indeed  of  what  is  happening  here,  but  moved  by  some 
vague  restlessness  which  whispers  them,  Deliverance  is 
at  hand!  It  is  your  cry  of  triumph,  comrades,  passing 
over  the  land  amid  the  stillness  of  this  summer  night  to 
stir  their  hearts.  I  have  no  more  to  say.  The  statue 
has  borne  its  drear  significance  too  long  without  result. 
Too  long,  also,  has  it  been  meaningless." 

What  need  to  add  that  the  air  was  once  more  rent  in 
twain,  even  before  Napoleon  had  arrived  at  his  paradox- 


THE    FOURTH  NAPOLEON  193 

ical  conclusion?  He  was  glad  enough  of  it.  He  was 
delighted  to  have  finished,  and  rejoiced  at  the  lucky  in- 
spiration which  had  enabled  him  to  finish  so  well.  He 
listened  complacently  to  the  cries  of  "  Vive  Napoleon 
IV!"  "Vive  1'Empereur!  "  "Vive  Bonaparte!  "  which 
rose  on  every  side. 

But  when  all  this  personal  adulation  gave  way,  as  it 
did  before  very  long,  to  open  shouts  for  the  "  Revanche," 
the  Prince  drew  back.  His  words  had  been  a  direct  in- 
centive; but  he  himself,  at  all  events,  had  not  heard 
them,  and  now  that  he  was  face  to  face  with  their  inter- 
pretation, he  did  not  like  it.  Presently  a  few,  braver 
than  the  rest,  began  to  shout  "A  Berlin!  "  Their  lead 
was  soon  generally  followed.  And  then  for  the  first  time 
that  evening  he  entered  into  the  actualities  of  his  posi- 
tion. At  last  the  thing  was  real.  The  dream-mists  had 
floated  away. 

He  looked  up  at  the  buildings  along  the  northern  side ; 
he  surveyed  so  much  of  the  "  Place  "  itself  as  the  troops 
and  the  darkness  permitted,  and  bethought  him  that  this 
fair  quarter  was  earnest  of  his  inheritance.  The  thou- 
sands that  surrounded  him — were  they  not  his  servants? 
Before  long,  if  things  went  well,  his  name  would  be  the 
lodestar  of  their  loyalty.  The  parsimony  which  lurks 
somewhere  in  most  men's  breasts  rose  to  the  surface. 
These  things  were  very,  very  good;  why  should  he  put 
them  to  the  hazard  of  a  laborious  war?  Hence  he 
prayed  with  all  fervour  that,  though  these  cries  of  menace 
reached  Alsace-Lorraine,  they  might  not  find  their  way 
across  the  Rhine. 

It  was  now  once  more  Brisson's  turn.  His  aides-de- 
camp scattered  with  fresh  messages;  the  hollow  square 
dissolved;  and  soon  Bonaparte  was  the  only  man  present 
not  on  the  move.  And  he  didn't  remain  so  for  long. 
Colonel  Bonvalet,  a  squadron  of  his  faithful  Cuirassiers 
behind  him,  sat  fidgetting  in  his  saddle,  a  little  distance 
off,  watching  our  hero  with  malevolent  eye.  Brisson 
gave  the  desired  signal.  He  advanced,  literally  swal- 
lowed Napoleon,  and  trotted  him  off  in  the  direction  of 
those  hated  barracks. 

He — Bonvalet,  that  is — was  evidently  of  a  brooding 


i94  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

and  resentful  disposition.  No  sooner  were  they  clear  of 
the  press,  than  he  ordered  his  men  to  change  their  trot 
into  a  gallop.  The  suddenness  of  this  manoeuvre  took 
Napoleon  completely  by  surprise.  In  the  Avenue  Gabriel 
he  lost  his  stirrups :  Bonvalet  noticed  it  and  increased  the 
pace.  Outside  the  Elysee  he  lost  his  hat:  the  troop  only 
closed  tighter  round  him,  without  slackening  in  the  least 
degree.  And  thus,  hatless  and  breathless,  clinging  sur- 
reptitiously— but,  all  the  same,  for  dear  life — to  his  sad- 
dle-bow, he  was  swept  into  the  barrack-yard. 

Even  then  Bonvalet  was  not  satisfied.  He  whipped 
Napoleon  off  his  horse,  and  conducted  him  between  two 
troopers  back  to  Brisson's  residence.  They  accompanied 
their  prisoner  to  the  door  itself  of  the  well-known  cham- 
ber, parting  with  him  only  on  the  threshold.  "Your 
Majesty  may  be  interested  to  learn  that  Mascaut  will  be 
shot,"  Bonvalet  said  grimly.  And  that  was  his  good- 
night. 

With  one  foot  in  the  room  and  one  still  outside,  Na- 
poleon decided  to  go  straight  to  bed.  But  his  plans  lay 
at  the  knees  of  the  gods — or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  at 
the  knees  of  Carache.  For  the  Prime  Minister  had  taken 
advantage  of  the  Prince's  absence  to  make  himself  at 
home.  He  had  had  a  second  supper,  as  the  viands  amply 
showed;  then  had  wheeled  the  table  to  the  right- 
abouts, and  was  now  seated  in  a  comfortable  arm-chair 
directly  underneath  the  hanging-lamp,  composedly  read- 
ing De  Morny's  book.  It  interested  him.  He  must  have 
heard  the  clatter  of  Bonaparte's  guard,  Bonvalet's  gentle 
farewell,  and  the  noise  caused  by  the  former's  entry. 
Nevertheless,  he  did  not  look  up,  but  pursued  his  course 
with  added  eagerness,  as  if  fearful  of  having  to  break  off 
in  the  midst  of  a  most  interesting  passage. 

The  new-comer  behaved  like  any  less  exalted  person, 
and  coughed.  Carache  fled  along  the  printed  lines  in 
frantic  haste.  He  skipped  fifty  pages,  skimmed  the  con- 
tents of  fifty  more,  tearing  himself  away  at  last  only 
with  the  most  obvious  effort,  and  sighing  heavily  as  he 
laid  the  book  to  one  side. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  195 

"Ah,  Monseigneur!  "  said  he,  "so  you  are  back. 
Well,  how  have  you  been  getting  on?  " 

Napoleon  was  commencing  to  feel  tired,  and  wanted 
to  get  to  bed  in  the  shortest  time  possible,  so  he  put  the 
question  to  one  side  with  a  show  of  complete  indifference. 
"To  confess  the  truth,  I  do  not  know." 

"But,  Monseigneur!  "  exclaimed  Carache.  "Why, 
I  thought  you  went  out  into  the  streets  to  see  for  your- 
self?" 

"So  I  did,  and  have  only  just  returned.  Unfortu- 
nately, my  aide-de-camp  and  I  were  able  to  learn  nothing. 
It  was  impossible  to  get  even  within  sight  of  the  Place  de 
la  Concorde." 

"  So  you  returned?  " 

"So  we  returned." 

At  this  point  the  Premier,  who  had  already  vacated 
his  arm-chair,  offered  it  to  Napoleon.  The  latter  needed 
something  far  more  rest-giving;  but,  for  all  that,  he  ac- 
cepted. Carache  sank  into  a  second,  and  smiled  across 
at  the  Prince  with  great  sweetness. 

"  So  you  came  back?  "  he  repeated. 

"Yes,  I  came  back.  Let  me  also  tell  you,  Monsieur, 
that  I  am  very  tired.  The  day  has  been  a  terribly  ex- 
hausting one.  I  do  n't  think  I  shall  wait  for  the  result; 
really  I  do  n't." 

Carache  raised  both  hands  in  mild  expostulation. 
"  Surely  your  Highness  would  not  like  to  be  roused  from 
your  bed  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning.  Picture  the 
degradation, — to  be  carried  off  to  Ham  in  one's  night — 
night-garments!  " 

"That  is  not  very  likely,"  and  his  Highness  smiled 
faintly. 

"I  would  not  be  so  sure.  Ponte"coulant  is  a  rough 
diamond.  If  the  government  wins,  he  won't  give  you 
long  for  your  preparations." 

Napoleon  gave  a  yawn  of  unconquerable  weariness: 
"At  any  rate,  I  will  chance  it." 

The  Prime-Minister  straightway  shifted  his  ground. 

"Whose  voice  was  that  bidding  you  good-night,  out- 
side the  door?  " 

"Colonel  Bonvalet's." 


196  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  He  does  not  appear  to  have  any  doubts  concerning 
the  result." 

"Oh,"  cried  the  other,  with  a  little  burst  of  half- 
comic  impatience,  "I  am  not  going  to  beat  about  the 
bush  any  longer.  I  told  you  I  did  not  know,  simply  be- 
cause I  wanted  to  get  to  bed  and  not  be  put  through  my 
paces.  I  am  sure,  Monsieur,  you  must  have  been  bred  a 
lawyer;  you  cross-examine  so  ferociously.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  have  been  on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  The 
troops  hold  it,  and  indeed  the  entire  city.  Brisson  tells 
me  that  they  have  met  with  little  or  no  opposition.  At 
the  present  moment,  Paris  is  quite  tranquil.  If  only  the 
provinces  show  themselves  equally  complacent,  I  am,  I 
suppose,  Emperor  of  France." 

Carache  had  already  risen  to  his  feet.  He  stood  gaz- 
ing gravely  at  Napoleon;  for  a  long  time  without  utter- 
ing a  word. 

"Sire,"  he  began  at  last,  so  impressively  that  the 
Prince  felt  nervous,  "  I  congratulate  you.  Very  heartily 
do  I  congratulate  you.  But  don't  be  too  sure  of  the 
provinces.  They  are  n't  to  be  relied  on,  by  any  manner 
of  means." 

"I  am  not  so  foolish  as  to  imagine  that  the  business 
is  ended  yet,"  the  other  replied.  "Still  we  have  got  a 
good  way." 

"Oh,  yes,  we  have  got  a  good  way.  Paris  is  ours; 
and  she  is  a  host  in  herself.  Nor  do  I  anticipate  that 
the  army  will  refuse  to  follow  the  example  set  by  the  gar- 
rison here.  But,  nevertheless,  we  must  walk  warily." 

"I  know  it  quite  well." 

"And  none  of  us — you  and  I  are  especially  concerned 
in  this — must  think  of  going  to  bed  for  more  than  a  week 
to  come. "  Accordingly,  Carache  settled  himself  down 
to  a  comfortable  chat  which  should  last  over  the  seven 
days. 

"The  great  thing  in  these  matters,"  he  resumed, 
placidly,  "is  to  be  on  the  spot — at  the  helm,  so  to  speak. 
This  room  " — glancing  critically  round  it — "  will  make  a 
capital  place  to  work  in.  The  whole  suite  is  marvellously 
adapted  to  the  requirements  of  two  people  who  have  to 
labour  side  by  side.  True,  I  do  n't  like  to  administer 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  197 

the  Empire  in  its  birth-throes  from  a  barracks;  and  we 
must  get  to  the  Elysee  with  the  least  possible  delay.  On 
the  other  hand,  you  are  well  advised  in  giving  '  Old 
Boots  '  time  to  remove  his  effects:  any  consideration 
shown  to  him  or  Madame  will  repay  you  fourfold.  But," 
said  he,  breaking  abruptly  away  from  the  main  topic, 
"  you  have  n't  told  me  any  of  your  adventures  yet.  Give 
me  the  pleasure  of  hearing  them;  they  are  certain  to 
be  worth  hearing.  Let  me  see,  what  happened  to  you 
directly  after  you  and  your  aide-de-camp  stole — I  mean, 
left  these  rooms?  We  may  as  well  begin  at  the  begin- 
ning." 

Napoleon's  drowsiness  was  increasing  every  minute. 

"  I  am  too  tired,"  he  said  bluntly. 

"  Tut,  tut,  your  Majesty  must  not  talk  like  that.  Take 
something  to  overcome  your  languor:  coffee  is  an  excel- 
lent remedy.  Possibly  the  colonel  in  charge  will  make 
you  a  cup,  if  you  ask  him  to.  I  suppose  you  did  n't  come 
across  Pontec'oulant?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did.      He  gave  me  into  custody." 

"  Noble  fellow!  "  ejaculated  Carache. 

"  It  nearly  ruined  the  business, "  Bonaparte  responded 
in  an  aggrieved  tone. 

"Noble  fellow!" 

"  I  do  n't  like  him  at  all. " 

"You  will,  when  you  know  him  better." 

"  I  doubt  it." 

"  I  shall  now  send  telegrams  to  Clisserole  and  Chan- 
garnier  and  little  Brigadier  Mesnil.  They  are  powerful 
people;  whither  they  lead,  the  army  is  sure  to  follow," 
and  Carache  rang  the  bell.  No  one  answered.  He 
crossed  over  to  the  window,  which  was  still  wide  open, 
and  called  down  to  the  sentry:  "  Hi,  you  there!  I  want 
to  send  some  telegrams.  Hi,  are  you  deaf?  I  am  Carache, 
Prime  Minister  and  President  of  the  Council." 

"Very  well,  Carache,"  the  private  returned  gruffly, 
lifting  his  carbine,  "if  you  don't  withdraw  your  ugly 
head  before  I  count  five,  I  will  put  a  bullet  through  it. 
One—" 

The  Premier  recovered  his  head  without  waiting  for 
"two."  "Martial  law!  "  he  gasped  out;  "  Brisson  and 


198  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

that  myrmidon  below  shall  smart  for  this.  Private,"  he 
shrieked,  keeping,  however,  a  careful  six  yards  off  the 
window,  "furnish  me  with  your  name  and  number.  I 
shall  be  compelled  to  punish  you  for  your  insolence." 

A  second  and  even  a  third  such  allocution,  eliciting  no 
reply  beyond  the  man's  heavy  boots,  Carache  docketted 
the  incident  for  future  reference,  and  put  it  on  one  side. 
It  never  took  him  long  to  recover  his  equanimity. 

"What  attitude  am  I  to  adopt  towards  the  ambas- 
sadors? "  he  went  prattling  on. 

"We  had  better  wait  and  hear  what  Brisson  has  to 
say.  I  am  so  sleepy." 

"What  an  absurdity,  with  all  respect  to  you,  sire. 
Brisson's  work  is  done.  He  shall  receive  promotion, 
and  be  put  on  half-pay.  I  have  said  it,  and  I  do  not 
mean  to  go  back  upon  my  word.  He  has  performed  his 
part  very  well,  but  we  are  now  getting  into  deeper 
waters.  The  soldier  must  give  way  to  the  statesman." 

"  I  am  so  tired." 

"Courage,  my  king.  Prehlen  will  need  very  special 
treatment;  those  Russians  are  so  sly.  You  know  the 
gentleman?  " 

"  Not  personally,"  and  Napoleon's  head  nodded  for- 
ward on  his  breast. 

"Beware  of  him;  he  will  twist  you  round  his  little 
finger." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it," — in  sleep  there  is  the  truth. 

"Who  is  that?" 

It  was  Brisson,  come  to  deliver  the  Emperor.  The 
gallant  warrior  looked  almost  as  weary  as  his  master. 
His  face,  habitually  drawn  and  furrowed,  was  longer 
than  ever.  His  erect  figure  bent  the  least  degree  for- 
ward. Beyond  doubt,  the  tension,  having  been  relaxed, 
had  left  his  fibres  very  loose. 

Of  Napoleon  and  Carache,  the  latter  was  the  first  to 
catch  sight  of  the  new-comer. 

"  My  dear  Colonel,"  he  cried  enthusiastically,  bound- 
ing to  his  feet,  "permit  me  to  congratulate  you.  You 
are  a  hero,  my  beloved  friend." 

Brisson  stopped  short  in  amazement. 

"I  fear  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaint- 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  199 

ance,"  he  returned  coldly.  "I  was  under  the  impres- 
sion that  the  Emp —  and  he  is  here,"  and  Brisson  looked 
inquiringly  from  the  Premier  to  Napoleon. 

"Ah,  Brisson,"  the  latter  exclaimed,  "so  you  are 
back.  Well,  you  have  done  admirably."  He  stirred 
himself  while  he  was  speaking,  shook  off  a  portion  of  his 
fatigue,  and  noticed  that  the  Colonel  was  still  staring 
helplessly  at  Carache. 

"  Surely  you  recognize  Monsieur  Carache?  " 

"You  ungrateful  fellow,"  interrupted  that  last-named 
individual.  "When,  several  days  ago,  I  got  wind  of 
your  little  plans,  I  was  at  pains  to  procure  your  photo- 
graph. At  least,  you  might  have  returned  the  compli- 
ment. Yes,  I  am  Monsieur  Carache,  Prime  Minister  and 
President  of  the  Council." 

"  Indeed." 

"Yes;  and  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  success. 
You  have  managed  very  cleverly, — very  cleverly.  Not 
that  you  could  have  effected  anything  without  me.  I 
was  only  just  telling  his  Majesty,  had  I  chosen  I  could 
have  clapped  the  lot  of  you  into  gaol  more  than  a  week 
ago.  Besides,  I  discovered  the  Emperor's  identity  before 
any  one." 

Brisson  turned  to  Napoleon. 

"Things  are  going  satisfactorily.  A  message  has 
just  come  in  from  Nancy  to  say  that  the  garrison  there 
has  declared  for  you.  I  am  expecting  to  hear  every 
minute  from  Lille  and  Bordeaux." 

"They  won't  give  any  trouble,"  said  Carache. 
"  Rouen  and  Havre,  and  Normandy  generally,  are  what 
we  have  to  fear.  But  you  have  taken  precautions,  no 
doubt.  I  feel  inclined  to  send  Clisserole  into  Normandy. 
I  wonder  whether  he  is  back  in  Paris  yet.  " 

Brisson  took  no  notice.  He  went  on  with  his  remarks 
to  the  Emperor. 

"You  look  tired,  sire.  You  may  safely  turn  in  for  a 
few  hours'  rest.  Bonvalet  will  continue  under  arms 
through  the  remainder  of  the  night.  The  city  is  quiet." 

Napoleon  was  touched  by  the  other's  solicitude. 
"  And  you,  Colonel?  You  also  look  tired;  you  must  take 
rest  too.  I  heard  you  had  been  wounded?  " 


200  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"Merely  a  scratch.  I  am  already  due  at  the  Gare 
St.  Lazare.  We  are  nervous  about  Rouen.  I  have  got 
Marchmont  in  charge  of  the  station,  and  I  do  n't  alto- 
gether trust  him." 

"Quite  right,"  burst  out  the  irrepressible  Carache. 
"  'If  you  want  a  thing  well  done,' — you  know  the  say- 
ing. We  none  of  us  must  sleep.  Brisson  must  get  back 
to  the  streets,  and  I  to  the  helm.  Sire,  I  cannot  permit 
you  to  go  to  bed.  To  the  bridge  with  you!  that  is  your 
proper  place." 

This  time  the  Colonel  treated  the  Prime  Minister  to 
a  fixed  and  withering  stare.  Carache  was  not  in  the 
least  degree  disconcerted. 

"I  emphatically  oppose  any  such  withdrawal.  Take 
it  that,  an  hour  hence,  I,  your  principal  adviser,  deemed 
your  presence  necessary  at  Rouen, — consider  what  a 
waste  of  precious  time  would  ensue  if  you  were  asleep 
when  my  summons  came.  Ah,  Colonel  Brisson,  you  stili 
here?  I  think  you  can  safely  leave  me  to  deal  with  this 
matter.  We  need  hardly  detain  you  any  longer.  You 
may  return  to  your  post.  And  take  my  cordial  approval 
with  you.  So  far  the  thing  has  been  managed  excellently. 
'  So  far,' — what  am  I  saying?  Rather,  all  your  part  has 
been  managed  magnificently.  But  deeper  waters,  Col- 
onel, deeper  waters! — you  understand  me." 

The  other  was  not  ready  of  speech,  but  he  looked 
vocabularies. 

"Colonel  Bonvalet — "  he  began.  Carache  promptly 
stopped  him. 

"  Never  you  mind  Colonel  Bonvalet,  or  any  one  else. 
My  dear  fellow,  you  do  n't  need  me  to  tell  you  that  you 
ought  to  be  looking  after  Marchmont,  over  at  the  Gare 
de  1'Ouest.  Off  with  you!  "  he  added  with  playful  per- 
emptoriness,  "off  with  you!  " 

Brisson's  mouth  opened  wider  and  wider. 

"  Stay,  there  was  one  thing  I  had  to  mention  to  you," 
Carache  added,  still  quite  friendly,  but  the  least  bit  less 
playful  than  before,  "that  sentinel  whom  you  have  seen 
fit  to  station  at  the  front  door  is  an  ill-bred,  impertinent 
fellow.  He  actually  offered  to  shoot  me  just  now." 

His  words  came    to   Brisson  as  an  inspiration.     He 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  201 

thrust  his  head  forth  into  the  night,  and  called  down  to 
the  sentry  to  come  upstairs.  The  Premier  meanwhile 
assumed  his  most  judicial  attitude,  at  the  same  time 
nodding  across  to  Napoleon,  who  was  busy  nodding  to 
himself.  Colonel  Brisson — mindful,  no  doubt,  of  the 
other's  tongue — burst  out  with  his  orders  directly  the 
soldier  entered  the  room. 

"Conduct  this  gentlemen  to  the  guardroom,"  he 
said,  pointing  to  Carache. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  the  latter,  in  no  wise  compre- 
hending the  order.  "I  am  content  to  lodge  my  com- 
plaint with  you.  I  have  no  desire  to  have  the  poor  fel- 
low severely  punished.  All  I  want  is  to  make  him 
understand  that  we  are  in  Paris,  not  in  Nicaragua,  and 
that  he  cannot  put  bullets  through  the  head  of  any  one 
he  chooses.  Do  you  hear,  sir?  " 

The  soldier  looked  towards  Brisson,  who  renewed  his 
previous  order. 

"Conduct  this  gentleman  to  the  guardroom." 

"  I  keep  telling  you  I  do  n't  want  to  go.  Brisson,  you 
are  pig-headed;  there  's  no  denying  that,  though  it  may 
be  a  rude  thing  to  say.  All  right,  sentinel ;  you  may 
return  to  your  post.  Do  n't  offend  again.  You  can  con- 
sider your  present  little  slip  as  condoned.  It  is  his  Ma- 
jesty's wish  that  you  should  be  pardoned." 

"Conduct  this  gentleman  to  the  guardroom,"  Brisson 
repeated  in  a  sort  of  monotonous  chant. 

Carache  commenced  to  look  a  trifle  nervous:  "What 
do  you  mean?  " 

"  Conduct  him  to  Colonel  Bonvalet. " 

"  But  I  do  n't  want  Colonel  Bonvalet. " 

"  Monsieur,  I  regret  the  Colonel  wants  you.  He  has 
long  been  looking  for  you.  Arrangements  have  been 
made  to  lodge  your  Excellency  in  another  part  of  the 
barracks." 

"I  protest — " 

"  It  is  useless." 

"I  appeal  to  the  Emperor." 

"  My  dear  Carache,  I  have  no  voice  in  the  matter." 

The  Premier  seemed  to  regard  this  last  remark  as 
final.  Like  the  wise  man  he  was,  he  bowed  to  force 


202  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

majeure  and  followed  the  sentry.  Not  but  that  he  left 
his  protest  behind  him.  "You  had  better  take  care," 
said  he  to  Brisson  calmly  enough,  when  he  was  by  the 
door,  "or  you  won't  get  your  promotion.  It  will  all 
depend  on  their  behaviour  in  the  guardroom." 

Brisson  waited  until  the  retreating  footsteps  had  died 
away;  then  turned  to  Napoleon.  "Your  Majesty  should 
follow  my  advice  and  go  to  bed.  You  are  dead  tired,  I 
can  see;  you  can  hardly  keep  your  eyes  open.  No  won- 
der— you  have  had  a  fatiguing  day." 

"And  a  very  glorious  one,  thanks  to  you." 
"I  knew  we  should  win,"     Napoleon's     companion 
responded     deprecatingly,      "if   only    we     worked    to- 
gether." 

"We  could  never  have  won  without  you.     It  was  a 
lucky  chance  which  brought  me  to  your  mother's  house 
that  day.     Hadamard  and  De  Morin  will  look  blue  when 
they  come  to  know  of  this." 
"They  know  already." 

"  Then  they  are  gnashing  their  teeth.  Well.  I  shall  be 
ready  to  deal  with  them.  I  am  certain  of  that.  With 
Hadamard  especially.  I  have  not  forgotten  the  little 
viper's  insolence." 

"He  certainly  needs  a  lesson." 

"He  shall  get  one.  But  do  not,  my  dear  Colonel,  go 
away  with  the  impression  that  I  shall  only  have  room 
enough  in  my  memory  for  those  who  have  wronged  me. 
There  are  others  besides  Hadamard  and  De  Morin  with 
whom  I  shall  know  how  to  deal." 
"Ah?" 

"With  you,  for  instance,  and  all  those  who  have  con- 
tributed in  the  least  degree  to  my  success." 
"Your  Majesty  is  very  kind." 
"  Not  at  all.     I  am  merely  grateful." 
"  You  won't  be  grateful  if  I  keep  you  up  much  longer. 
You  can  go  to  bed    with  a   light  heart,   whatever  that 
meddling   busybody    may    say.      Good-night,  your    Ma- 
jesty." 

Napoleon  roused  himself  into  a  momentary  condition 
of  absolute  wakefulness.  The  chance  had  come  for  one 
of  those  "curtains,"  to  which  he  was  always  very  partial, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  203 

and  which  he  had  often  promised  himself  during  the  last 
few  days. 

"Good-night,  Marshal  Brisson.  No,  not  a  word! 
Good-night  again,  Marshal  Brisson. " 

And  then  an  unfathomable  silence  came  over  every- 
thing. And  our  hero  flung  himself  upon  his  couch,  and 
passed  at  once  into  a  profound  slumber  which  remem- 
bered nothing,  not  even  that  the  mysterious  God  had 
given  him  the  opportunity  he  had  sought  so  long  in  bit- 
terness and  tears. 


Book   II 
A  BERLIN 


Chapter  I 


Breakfast  at  the  Elyse"e  had  just  finished:  Napoleon 
passed  through  into  the  library  and  flung  himself  with  a 
show  of  weariness  upon  a  sofa  which  lay  between  his  desk 
and  the  door. 

His  Majesty  was  not  in  the  best  of  tempers.  Though 
no  later  than  the  third  week  of  his  reign,  already  those 
petty  disagreeables  of  life,  from  which  even  emperors 
are  not  exempt,  were  beginning  to  make  themselves  felt. 
Godefroy  (our  old  friend  the  theatrical  printer,  whose 
whim  it  had  been  to  select  the  post  of  valet)  would  per- 
sist in  drawing  the  blinds  at  an  hour  when  no  self- 
respecting  monarch  ought  to  be  in  bed.  The  first  day 
of  a  new  sovereign,  even  the  third  or  fourth,  might  sup- 
ply their  own  excuses;  but  this  was  the  twenty-second, 
and  in  France  too,  where,  so  far  as  sovereigns  are  con- 
cerned, a  little  goes  a  long  way.  Napoleon  glanced 
wearily  at  the  clock.  And  from  this  piece  of  furniture 
his  eyes  moved  slowly  round  the  room.  What  he  saw 
lent  no  colour  to  his  discontent.  The  apartment,  half 
study  and  all  library,  was  lined  on  three  sides  with  books 
which  reached  the  ceiling.  The  fourth  exhausted  itself 
in  a  number  of  narrow  windows,  leading  to  a  balcony 
overlooking  an  inner  courtyard  of  the  palace.  Within, 
the  rich  furniture  glittered  and  creaked  with  youth ;  and 
not  a  single  item  but  surpassed  in  splendour  the  beauties 
of  the  Rue  de  Berlin.  The  latter  habitation  was  once 
more  dissolved  into  shadows,  the  shell  decomposed  into 
Verre  and  some  new  tenant  not  yet  found,  the  goods 
settled  down  (at  a  reduction)  into  a  sort  of  sedimentary 
Hadamard,  who,  moreover,  had  secured  the  contract  for 
furnishing  the  Elyse"e.  Napoleon  found  no  regret  in  his 
heart  for  those  scattered  movables:  he  easily  tired,  lov- 
207 


208  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

ing  nothing  more  than  to  fit  himself,  his  brain,  character, 
wardrobe,  and  surroundings  out  anew  from  top  to  toe. 

The  old  gang,  however,  had  refused  to  humour  this 
love  for  change.  At  the  first  opportunity  they  had  ral- 
lied round  the  Empire  with  a  devotion  which  wrung  tears 
from  Monsieur  Carache's  eyes.  Released  at  dawn  on  the 
first  day  of  the  reign,  that  worthy  had  repaired  straight- 
way to  the  Imperial  presence.  The  presence  was  break- 
fasting. The  Premier  took  a  vacant  chair  and  plunged 
into  business.  His  promptitude  merited  the  success 
which  it  obtained.  "Your  Majesty,"  said  he,  "I  have 
thought  the  matter  well  over.  I  mean  to  do  a  little  re- 
constructing. "  The  Imperial  mouth,  which  was  full  of 
bread  and  butter,  ejaculated  "Ah  " ;  and  there  the  mat- 
ter ended.  Carache  did  his  reconstructing,  which  was 
apparent  rather  than  real.  The  clock  struck  eleven,  and 
put  Napoleon  in  mind  of  a  third  misery — the  greatest  of 
all.  It  was  nearly  certain  (Carache  had  told  him  so  two 
days  back)  that  a  conspiracy  had  thus  early  sprung  into 
existence  with  the  object  of  casting  him  from  his  throne. 
Its  leading  spirit  was  a  certain  Eurasian,  Nadez,  a  filthy 
negro  who  had  been  expelled  from  every  country  in  the 
world,  from  France  included,  being  allowed  back  into  the 
latter  state  under  a  special  clause  of  the  general  amnesty 
granted  at  the  commencement  of  the  reign.  Carache 
stated  further,  that  if  some  prominent  personages  were 
not  already  implicated,  they  soon  would  be.  That  was 
the  extent  of  his  information.  As  to  the  means  likely  to 
be  employed — well,  the  Premier  favoured  explosive  bul- 
lets. Our  hero  shuddered  as  he  thought  of  the  nasty 
wounds  these  utensils  made.  Then  he  sprung  from  his 
resting-place  with  a  cry  of  wild  defiance,  and  started  to 
pace  the  floor. 

Let  them  kill  him  with  explosive  bullets,  or  dynamite, 
or  any  other  devilish  weapon  they  chose!  He  was  not 
afraid.  The  other  people  weren't;  why  should  he  be? 
And  this  Nadez  should  discover  whether  he  was  to  be 
shot  at  with  impunity.  He  would  enlighten  this  Eurasian 
scum  pretty  quickly  upon  that  point.  Napoleon  rushed  to 
his  desk.  Still  standing,  he  scribbled  off  the  four  words, 
"  Let  Nadez  be  arrested,"  on  a  sheet  of  paper, — that  and 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  209 

a  bold  and  flowing  N,  nothing  else, — and  thrust  this  mes- 
sage into  an  envelope  (one  from  a  large  bundle)  which 
bore  M.  Carache's  printed  name  and  address.  He  des- 
patched it  forthwith,  hardly  delaying  to  make  it  secure. 

"So  much  for  the  explosive  bullets,"  he  exclaimed, 
when  he  was  once  more  alone.  "The  rest  shall  find  in 
the  same  way  that  I  am  not  to  be  played  with.  I  won't 
stand  their  dictation  much  longer." 

He  would  deal  with  Carache  as  he  had  with  the  assas- 
sin; Verre,  too,  who  had  been  included  in  the  recon- 
structed Cabinet, — an  appointment  which  Madame  Verre 
had  ascribed  to  Imperial  favour.  Ponte"coulant,  whose 
resurrection  went  without  saying,  he  regarded  with  some- 
what different  eyes.  Even  already  he  had  conceived  a 
sneaking  affection  for  him:  doubtless  he  looked  forward 
to  the  next  occasion  on  which  it  would  be  necessary  to 
throw  up  barricades.  Hadamard  —  resuming  the  list  of 
the  proscribed  —  he  had  hated  from  the  first.  His  own 
importations  were  not  more  satisfactory.  The  Count  de 
Morin,  who,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  had  not  found  it 
necessary  to  accept  his  post  at  the  hands  of  the  universal 
dispenser,  had  made  number  two  of  Napoleon's  visitors 
that  morning  in  barracks  after  the  coup  d'etat;  and 
there,  in  the  midst  of  much  gay  raillery  concerning 
unfledged  Machiavellis,  had  cursorily  informed  his 
kinsman  that  he  was  too  old  to  take  upon  himself  any 
post  more  onerous  than  that  of  Grand  Chamberlain.  So 
Grand  Chamberlain  he  was,  with  apartments  in  every 
royal  palace;  his  cat-like  dictation  and  causticities  daily 
galling  Napoleon  more  and  more.  Even  blunt  old  Gode- 
froy  jarred.  He  wanted  to  surround  himself  with  devoted 
adherents,  men  who  should  only  have  known  him  from 
the  commencement  of  his  prosperity.  But  he  must  have 
a  little  time  wherein  to  look  about  him.  First,  he  must 
gather  the  threads.  Then  he  would  pull  them.  The 
world  should  see  that  he  meant  to  govern  as  well  as  rule. 

His  thoughts  took  a  higher  flight.  He  meant  to  be 
great;  but  he  meant  to  be  noble  and  high-souled,  like- 
wise. His  reign  should  make  for  goodness.  Like  Arthur 
the  King,  whom  he  loved,  he  would  right  the  wronged 
throughout  the  realm,  and  ensure  peace  in  the  land. 


210  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

And  inasmuch  as  nothing  makes  us  so  happy  as  the 
thought  of  the  good  we  mean  to  do,  he  started  a  blithe 
air,  going  over,  meanwhile,  the  memory  of  the  few 
pleasant  things  which  had  befallen  him  since  his  acces- 
sion. How  he  had  been  present  at  Lady  Threpps's  ball 
after  all,  without,  however,  managing  to  pay  off  old 
scores.  His  kind  hostess  had  completely  forgotten 
Walter  Sadler.  Both  Mendril  and  Fersen  treated  him 
with  a  genial  friendliness  that  was  eloquent  of  a  pre-exist- 
ing acquaintance.  Madame  Verre  likewise  took  the 
opportunity  the  function  offered  to  show  that  she  had  a 
soul  above  resentment.  Prince  Felix  was  another  little 
source  of  pleasure  to  our  hero,  who  smiled  even  to  recall 
the  look  on  his  cousin's  face  at  their  first  meeting  after 
coup  d'etat.  The  poor  creature  was  still  recouping  at 
the  hired  villa  of  a  friend  down  at  Auteuil.  A  beautiful 
Swedish  actress,  who  possessed  a  house  of  her  own,  may 
be  trusted  to  calm  any  one's  nerves.  The  next  minute 
Godefroy  flung  wide  the  door. 

"The  Prime  Minister  and  Marshal  Brisson!"  They 
had  brought  the  redoubtable  little  General  Mesnil  with 
them,  the  French  Moltke,  and  the  commandant  of  Lille. 
Carache  led  the  way.  He  waved  a  sheet  of  note-paper 
above  his  head — "Let  Nadez  be  arrested.  N.  " — Na- 
poleon's own  message.  "Really,  sire,"  he  expostulated, 
though  in  perfect  good  humour,  "you  must  not  send  me 
these  silly  things.  Please  leave  me  to  deal  with  Nadez 
my  own  way.  Your  Majesty  must,  so  to  say,  mark  time 
for  a  year,  and  observe  how  we  manage.  We  are  all 
devoted  to  you,  heart  and  soul.  You  need  have  no  fear. " 

"  But  I  thought  — "  stammered  Flos  Regum  Arthurus. 

"Thinking  comes  later  on,"  rejoined  the  Premier. 
And  he  wagged  his  finger.  Mesnil  and  Brisson  mean- 
while had  got  well  into  the  room.  The  command- 
dant  was  short  and  thin,  with  wrinkled,  clean-shaven 
face  and  wispy  hair  and  ferret-like  eyes.  To  some  extent 
nature  had  cast  him  in  the  mould  of  another  great  war- 
rior, now  defunct;  only  the  little  Frenchman  could 
scarcely  be  termed  "silent,"  even  by  his  most  admiring 
friends. 

Brisson  led  him  forward. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  211 

"This,  your  Majesty,"  he  commenced,  gloomily 
enough,  "is  General  Mesnil. " 

"Ah,"  Napoleon  exclaimed,  not  budging  from  his 
place  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  bent  on  not  com- 
mitting himself.  "I  was  under  the  impression,  General 
Mesnil,  that  you  were  stationed  at  Lille." 

The  little  fellow  glanced  with  a  puzzled  air  from 
Brisson  to  Carache,  and  from  Carache  to  Brisson.  Then 
he  turned  his  twinkling  eyes  upon  his  master  and 
smiled. 

"I  sometimes  come  to  town.  Even  your  Majesty 
would  find  perpetual  life  in  Lille  dull." 

"No  doubt,  no  doubt.  It  is  warm?"  and  his 
Majesty  thawed  the  least  little  bit. 

"Very  warm." 

"  How  long  do  you  stay  here?  " 

"That  depends  on  our  two  friends,"  replied  Mesnil, 
once  more  turning  to  survey  the  others.  Carache  sat 
with  his  head  well  back  and  his  eyes  shut,  peace  over 
every  part  of  him.  Brisson,  on  the  other  hand,  made  no 
attempt  to  conceal  how  he  smarted  under  the  hasp  of 
these  inanities. 

Napoleon,  too,  glanced  at  his  War  Minister.  "He 
keeps  us  all  in  order,"  he  observed,  smiling  faintly. 
The  next  minute  he  remembered  his  position  and  became 
iron. 

"How  does  your  Majesty  like  the  Elysee?  "  Mesnil 
began,  on  his  side. 

' '  Very  much — fairly  well,  thanks.   I  find  it  draughty. ' ' 

"One  would  have  gathered  as  much.  What  sort  of 
bedroom  have  they  given  you?  " 

"A  good  enough  bedroom,"  distantly.  His  Majesty 
was  not  quite  sure  that  he  ought  to  discuss  these  things. 

"  Hein, "  he  cried,  including  the  three  of  them  in  an 
acute  survey;  "we  are  pretty  strong  at  Lille,  hein?  " 

Brisson  brightened.  Carache  nodded,  without,  how- 
ever, opening  his  eyes;  and  Mesnil  continued  an  inspec- 
tion of  the  furniture  on  which  he  had  just  embarked. 

"Very  strong,"  the  last-named  individual  replied. 

"  That 's  right,  that 's  right,"  and  Napoleon  subjected 
the  three  of  them  to  another  of  his  searching  glances. 


212  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  It  could  stand  a  siege,  I  suppose,  or  a  bombardment, 
or  anything  of  the  kind." 

"Yes,"  Mesnil  answered,  with  undisguised  disdain, 
"provided  anyone  were  fool  enough  to  want  to  bom- 
bard it." 

"Precisely.  I  meant  that.  And  you,  my  dear  Bris- 
son,  how  go  things  with  you?  Everything  satisfactory, 
hein?  " 

Brisson  made  a  moody  inclination  of  his  head. 

"You  see,  my  dear  General,"  Napoleon  rattled  on, 
"we  still  have  something  to  do  in  Paris.  Neither  Bris- 
son nor  I  ever  seem  to  get  a  minute  free.  Really,  I 
sometimes  regret  the  old  days  in  London.  Carache  is 
the  only  one  of  us  three  who  does  not  work  any  harder. 
Responsibility  is  not  all  delight  and  glory,  that  you  may 
guess.  You  lucky  people  at  Lille. " 

"Yes,  we  have  no  responsibilities  at  Lille,"  Mesnil 
acquiesced  sweetly.  "At  least  I  haven't.  I  don't 
know  about  my  subordinates — they  may  have  a  little. " 

"I  didn't  mean  that.  I  meant — I  meant — your 
responsibility  cannot  compare  with  ours." 

"General  Mesnil's  responsibilities,"  Brisson  burst  in, 
"are  very  great.  They  soon  will  be  much  greater." 

"I  do  not  follow  you,"  the  Emperor  replied  with 
overwhelming  haughtiness. 

"It's  merely  Brisson's  way.  He  merely  wants  to 
point  out  that  I  have  enough  to  do  at  Lille." 

"I  desire  to  suggest  more  than  that.  The  Emperor 
has  my  meaning." 

"  Really  you  ought  not  to  address  me  in  that  fashion; 
ought  he,  Carache?" 

Carache,  his  eyes  still  closed,  nodded  his  head  ob- 
liquely from  left  to  right. 

"  It  is  not  more  than  the  truth,"  pursued  the  Mar- 
shal, commencing  to  fumble  with  the  handle  of  his  sword. 
"I  gave  your  Majesty  notice  of  General  Mesnil's  visit." 

"I  do  not  recollect." 

"You  can  hardly  forget." 

"  Tut,  tut,  it  really  cannot  signify.  His  Majesty 
knows  that  I  am  one  of  his  most  faithful  servants." 

"I  am  certainly  very  glad   to  make  your  acquaint- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  213 

ance  "  ;  here  the  Emperor  glanced  resentfully  at  Brisson. 
"  I  do  not  know  why  I  should  have  waited  till  the  Mar- 
shal saw  fit  to  bring  you." 

"So  I  told  them."  Mesnil  exclaimed  gleefully.  "I 
came  to  Paris  twelve  hours  before  you  were  proclaimed 
Emperor,  but  Carache  " — who  was  in  a  deep  slumber — 
"  would  not  let  me  see  you." 

Napoleon  made  haste  to  get  to  new  ground.  "When 
do  you  go  back  to  Lille?  " 

"  He  is  not  going  back." 

"  Indeed." 

"Yes,  the  Premier  intends  to  speak  to  you  on  the  sub- 
ject. He  has  made  his  selection.  Carache,  Carache," 
— but  that  wise  and  eminent  fellow  would  not  be  roused. 
His  device  succeeded  admirably.  The  Emperor  looked 
at  him  helplessly  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  gave  way, 
falling  instead  into  the  traditional  brusquerie  of  his 
family,  and  turning  upon  Mesnil  with  an  impatience  that 
was  meant  to  be  half  jocular. 

"  So  you  are  their  candidate?  Well,  am  I  to  say  yes, 
or  no,  hey?  " 

The  General  grinned.  "  I  must  not  venture  to  advise 
your  Majesty." 

"  Do  you  think  you  are  equal  to  the  post?  " 

"Time  will  prove  me." 

"It  may  be  at  too  large  a  cost. " 

"  Your  Majesty  confirms  the  selection  of  the  Cabinet?  " 
Brisson  interrupted. 

"Provisionally,"  Napoleon  replied  with  extreme 
caution.  The  next  minute  he  must  have  forgotten  his 
qualified  consent;  for  he  went  on,  looking  through  the 
General's  eyes  into  the  General's  soul,  "I  think  I  have 
made  a  wise  choice.  I  have  heard  much  about  you;  and  I 
think  I  have  made  a  wise  choice." 

"You  flatter  me." 

"  Not  at  all.  Your  name  is  very  well  known.  Yes," 
with  growing  conviction,  "  I  am  sure  that  I  have  selected 
the  best  man  for  the  post.  If  trouble  should  come,  you, 
without  doubt,  are  the  fittest  man  to  deal  with  it." 

"  Trouble  will  come. " 

"  I  did  not  say  that." 


2i4  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  But  you  must  know  that  it  will. " 

"Marshal  Brisson,  I  know  nothing  of  the  sort.  I 
have  not  made  up  my  mind." 

The  Marshal  assumed  the  look  of  irritated  dismay 
with  which  by  now  Napoleon  was  well  familiar. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  your  Majesty  can  say  that?  " 

"  I  am  sorry." 

"  I  do  not  indeed.  The  matter  was  settled  before 
you  ascended  the  throne." 

"I  take  a  different  view.  I  said  or  did  nothing  at 
that  time  to  justify  this  assertion  of  yours." 

"  But  your  pledges — " 

"  I  gave  no  pledges.  I  won't  have  you  say  that  I 
gave  pledges.  I  did  no  such  thing.  It  's  a — not  true." 

The  voices  of  both  men  were  raised.  Brisson  evi- 
dently had  no  intention  of  budging  from  his  position. 

"  I  repeat,  your  Majesty  gave  specific  pledges  before 
ascending  the  throne." 

"You  ought  not  to  say  such  a  thing." 

"  But  I  do  say  it." 

"Then  you  must  say  it  out  of  my  presence.  I  shall 
look  for  another  Minister  of  War.  Carache,  Carache, 
do  you  hear  me?  " 

"Tut,  tut,"  put  in  Mesnil,  "our  good  Brisson  is  only 
a  little  excited.  He  does  n't  mean  half  he  says.  If  you 
maintain  that  you  gave  no  pledges,  of  course  we  believe 
you.  You  believe  him,  do  n't  you,  Brisson?  " 

"Very  well,  he  gave  no  pledges,"  Brisson  rejoined 
with  an  alacrity  which  was  a  new  phase  in  his  character. 
"But  he  must  see  the  need  of  giving  them." 

"Why?" 

"How  can  you  ask  me  such  a  fo —  such  a  question? 
The  choice  between  peace  and  war  is  not  in  your  hands. 
You  can  merely  choose  between  the  defensive  and  the 
offensive." 

"  I  do  not  altogether  agree  with  you." 

"  Then  declare  at  once  that  you  mean  to  try  and  keep 
peace." 

"  I  shall  declare  nothing  of  the  sort." 

"But — " 

"Marshal  Brisson,   you  had  much  better  leave  the 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  215 

matter   where   it   stands.     I   am   not  going  to  make  a 
momentous  decision  like  this  at  a  day's  notice.     And 
you  know  well  enough  that  I  am  not  the  man  to  yield  to 
dictation.      I  must  have  time,  gentlemen, — time." 
"  How  long  do  you  want?  " 

"That  is  not  a  question  for  you  to  ask.  I  shall 
take  as  long  as  I  think  fit,  without  binding  myself 
to  any  settled  period.  And  when  I  have  made  up  my 
mind,  I  shall  give  you  instant  word.  At  present,"  he 
went  on,  "  I  lean  towards  peace.  But  do  not  be  afraid, 
I  shall  not  suffer  any  personal  bias  to  influence  me. 
Something  may  easily  occur  within  the  next  few  weeks 
to  change  my  mind.  I,  however,  warn  you,  Brisson,  if  I 
do  finally  choose  peace,  you  will  have  to  give  my  choice 
a  loyal  acceptance.  Once  my  mind  is  made  up,  I  am 
always  adamant." 

Brisson's  face  had  been  growing  gradually  redder  under 
this  harangue.  His  sole  answer  was  to  unhook  the 
buckle  of  his  sword-belt,  and  let  the  weapon,  with  all  its 
belongings,  fall  clattering  to  the  floor.  Then  he  turned 
upon  his  heels,  and  walked  straight  out  of  the  room. 

Monsieur  Carache  opened  his  eyes  wearily.  "I 
think, ' '  said  he,  stretching  himself  preparatory  to  rising — 
"I  think  we  need  hardly  trouble  your  Majesty  further. 
Come  along,  Mesnil. "  And  when  he  was  by  the  door  he 
looked  down  impassively  at  his  colleague's  leavings, 
murmuring  under  his  breath: 

"I  think  I  will  offer  the  post  to  Clisserole.  He  is 
not  as  tractable  in  many  things  as  this  one,  but  he  will 
take  teaching.  Mesnil,  after  you.  Adieu,  your  Ma- 
jesty." Later  on  Godefroy  came  in  and  removed  the 
sword. 


Chapter  II 


Two  miles  west  of  Meaux,  and  on  the  Paris  road, 
there  stands,  or  rather  there  stood  at  the  time  of  this 
story, — for  every  token  of  the  Emperor  capable  of  destruc- 
tion has  since  been  destroyed, — a  small,  square  house, 
remarkable  for  nothing,  except  perchance  the  dazzling 
whiteness  of  its  walls,  and  the  still  more  dazzling  green 
of  its  door  and  shutters.  In  front  it  abutted  directly  upon 
the  main  road;  but  behind,  were  you  so  fortunate  as  to 
be  allowed  to  enter,  you  might  see  that  it  commanded 
acres  upon  acres  of  park-like  lawn  and  beauteous  flower- 
beds that  ran  down  to  the  river  Marne,  and  marched  for 
miles  with  its  sweet-flowing  stream. 

Villa  Yvonne,  for  such  was  the  name,  had  been  bought 
only  the  previous  autumn  to  serve  as  one  among  number- 
less presidential  summer-houses;  and  Napoleon,  passing 
it  on  his  way  by  road  from  Lagny  to  Meaux,  six  days  after 
his  accession,  cast  longing  eyes  upon  it,  so  charming  was 
it,  with  its  air  of  trim,  well-kept  repose  and  its  glimpses 
of  paradise  beyond. 

The  Emperor  was  on  his  way  to  a  public  function,  the 
invitation  to  which  had  reached  him  the  day  after  the  coup 
d'etat.  Such  alacrity  on  the  part  of  the  city  fathers  in 
recognizing  the  new  order  had  gratified  him  exceedingly, 
while  the  recollection  that  the  Earl  of  Framlingham 
owned  a  villa  in  the  neighbourhood  had  been  an  ad- 
ditional inducement. 

A  band  of  school-girls  dressed  in  white,  bearing 
flowers,  and  a  shrill  song  which  they  sang — so  it  seemed 
to  Napoleon — over  and  over  again,  delayed  his  carriage 
nearly  five  minutes  outside  this  nestling  pleasure-house. 
The  noise  and  glitter  worried  him.  Even  thus  early  he 
had  come  to  connect  these  melodious  young  virgins  with 
216 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  217 

infernal-machines.  And  he  turned  to  such  parts  of  the 
Villa  Yvonne  as  were  visible,  for  some  relief. 

"Perhaps  she  lives  here,"  he  reflected  with  a  half 
indifference.  "  Perhaps  that  balcony  yonder  leads  into 
her  room.  She  may  be  in  it  now.  I  wonder  whether  it 
is  so  or  not?  I  wonder  whether  I  shall  ever  see  her 
again,  now  that  I  am  more  than  her  equal?  "  He  turned 
to  the  Prefect  of  the  department,  who  sat  beside  him. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  to  whom  that  villa  belongs?  " 

The  Prefect  could  not.  He  rather  fancied  it  belonged 
to  the  state. 

"  It  does  not  belong  to  the  Earl  of  Framlingham  by 
any  chance?  " 

That,  too,  the  Prefect  could  not  answer  for  certain. 
He  rather  fancied  it  did  not. 

"  He  lives  near  here,  does  he  not?  " 

To  this  question  the  Prefect  was  happy  to  be  able  to 
give  a  definite  reply.  The  Earl  had  a  summer-house  in 
the  department.  He  rather  fancied  that  it  was  near 
Meaux. 

All  that  sultry  July  afternoon,  in  the  midst  of  tire- 
some town  folk  and  speechifying  mayors  and  prefects 
(he  was  opening  a  new  wing  of  the  Public  Library),  his 
mind  would  keep  wandering  away  from  the  business  in 
hand  to  revisit  the  small,  unpretentious  white  dwelling 
which  lay  so  peacefully  among  soft  rolling  hills  beside  the 
shining  river.  He  envied  its  possessor  from  the  bottom 
of  his  heart;  for,  as  yet,  he  did  not  know  the  extent  of 
his  belongings.  Had  he  indeed,  his  envy  might  have 
been  less  ardent.  And  he  half  made  up  his  mind  to  bid 
for  it  before  quitting  the  town.  But  tea  with  the  munici- 
pality, and  a  triumphal  progress  to  the  Paris  railway 
station,  put  the  whole  matter,  the  Framlinghams  in- 
cluded, out  of  his  head.  Amidst  the  shouts  and  plaudits 
of  the  mob  he  forgot  the  Villa  Yvonne;  nay,  even  all 
memory  of  Muriel  Mendril  lay  slowly  dying  in  his  dis- 
tracted brain  for  want  of  sufficient  nutriment;  and  but 
for  a  chance  word,  a  few  days  later,  he  might  perhaps 
never  have  thought  of  it  or  her  again. 

The  Grand  Chamberlain  was  reciting  the  list  of  royal 
residences.  He  gabbled  them  out  monotonously,  and  the 


218  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Emperor  lay  back  in  his  chair  listening,  his  eyes  closed, 
and  to  all  appearances  asleep. 

"Chateau  of  Fontainebleau,"  jabbered  De  Morin. 
"Villa  Napoleon,  near  Fecamp.  A  house,  building,  and 
unnamed  as  yet,  at  Nay,  in  the  department  of  the  Basses 
Pyrenees.  Villa  Henri  Quatre,  Cannes.  Villa  Alaise, 
Jura.  Villa  Yvonne,  outside  Meaux.  Vil — ' 

Napoleon  started  up,  now  wide  awake. 

"What!  do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  Villa  Yvonne 
is  mine?  " 

"  Certainly,"  the  other  answered,  opening  his  eyes. 

"  But  I  thought  it  might  possibly  belong  to, — "  and 
his  Majesty  came  to  an  abrupt  ending. 

"To?"  cooed  De  Morin. 

"  Nothing,  it  does  not  matter.  I  happened  to  notice 
the  house  when  I  was  down  at  Meaux  the  other  after- 
noon; that  is  all.  The  place  struck  me  as  being  an 
exceedingly  beautiful  one;  I  am  glad  to  find  that  it 
belongs  to  me." 

"To  you  and  your  successors,"  the  old  gentleman 
corrected  him  softly. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  mean  that.  I  shall  certainly  stay  there," 
and  the  memory  of  Muriel  Mendril  came  back  to  him, 
not  with  the  full  force  of  reawakened  passion,  but  softly, 
like  some  temptation  which  one  meets  and  welcomes,  and 
which  first  needs  kindling  before  it  gathers  its  irresistible 
way.  The  chance  of  seeing  her  again,  he  felt  languidly, 
was  worth  the  journey. 

Napoleon  added  nothing  more  at  the  moment,  and  the 
next  few  days  were  entirely  taken  up  by  the  events  nar- 
rated in  the  preceding  chapter. 

But  the  morning  which  followed  his  stand  against  the 
dogs  of  war  found  him  in  just  such  a  mood  as  needed  the 
calm  of  the  placid  country.  Even  King  Arthur  must 
have  had  his  moments  of  weakness  and  reaction;  our 
hero,  for  his  part,  yearned  to  escape  the  turmoil  of  the 
Elyse"e,  and  substitute  tranquil  meditation  among  green 
fields. 

So  he  sent  Brisson  his  sword,  accompanied  by  a  genial 
little  note  to  the  effect  that  he  was  not  going  to  let  a 
faithful  servant  go  so  lightly.  He  understood  and  for- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  219 

gave  his  outburst.  He  really  had  not  made  up  his  mind 
one  way  or  the  other,  and  only  wanted  time  in  which  to 
be  allowed  to  come  to  a  satisfactory  decision.  He  sent 
a  second  note  to  Carache,  saying  that  he  was  going  down 
to  Meaux,  to  remain  there  at  any  rate  till  the  following 
Monday,  and  that  in  the  mean  time  the  Premier  need  not 
bother  about  a  new  Minister  of  War.  It  was  King 
Arthur  with  the  chill  very  much  off — or  rather  on ;  and 
the  best  of  us  grow  cold  at  times. 

He  quitted  town  much  past  midday,  Godefroy  his  sole 
attendant.  It  was  his  first  experience  of  a  voyage 
incognito,  that  exclusive  appanage  of  kings.  Ah,  now 
he  felt  an  Emperor  indeed !  They  can  never  have  been 
royal,  even  in  their  dreams,  who  say  that  the  purple 
mantle  makes  the  monarch.  It  is  in  the  clothes  of  vul- 
gar men  that  he  is  really  regal — the  homely  grey  frock- 
coat  with  facings  of  slate-coloured  silk,  the  once  well- 
known  white  pot-hat — these  are  the  fittest  setting,  and 
the  best  calculated  to  show  himself  and  the  world  how 
he  outstrips  the  common  run.  But  to  resume.  The 
two  men  smuggled  into  Meaux,  and  out  of  it  again — the 
latter  journey  in  a  hired  landau,  the  Villa  Yvonne  not 
yet  being  fully  equipped — without  recognition,  reaching 
their  journey's  end  with  the  evening  sun  upon  it,  the 
first  shades  of  diamond-decked  darkness  stealing  through 
the  trees. 

His  first  impressions  had  not  deceived  him.  Napoleon 
could  tell  as  much  directly  the  villa  came  in  sight.  The 
bright  white  and  green  of  the  house  itself,  the  many 
glimpses  of  flower-set  lawns,  through  foliage  that  was  a 
delicate  frame  rather  than  a  curtain,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  unseen  river,  were  charms  which  had  no 
fading. 

How  happy  these  things  made  him.  The  rooms  were 
so  bright  and  elegant,  and  yet  so  simple.  What  a  relief 
to  get  away  from  even  such  modified  magnificence  as  the 
Elysee  afforded.  It  was  Harrow  over  again.  Harrow, 
rid  of  the  Damoclean  sword,  the  prospect  of  struggling 
days.  He  ate  a  heartier  dinner  than  he  had  done  for 
years,  then  went  out  to  enjoy  the  twilight,  and  explore 
the  length  and  breadth  of  his  domain.  It  was  not  yet 


220  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

seven.  He  made  for  the  silver  thread  of  water  that  lay 
far  down  yonder  among  the  poplars,  gradually  disappear- 
ing in  the  twilight.  Around  him  on  every  side  was  the 
stillness  of  evening,  broken  with  ever-increasing  rarity 
by  the  passing  cry  of  birds,  and  merely  intensified  by  the 
ceaseless  hum  of  invisible  insects. 

His  chosen  path,  once  he  reached  the  river,  ran 
through  an  avenue  of  interminable  poplars,  with  the  nar- 
rowest strip  of  velvet  sward  between  him  and  the  gently 
rippling  stream.  Upon  the  other  side  he  could  descry 
the  dim  outline  of  woods,  which  ran  in  ridges  over 
undulating  country,  and,  beyond,  the  rich  fields  and  or- 
chards— now  beginning  to  darken — of  this  pleasant 
"  Pays  Meldois. " 

Amid  such  beautiful  surroundings  and  in  so  peaceful 
an  atmosphere  he  forgot  the  purpose  with  which  he  had 
started  on  his  walk.  Brisson  and  Mesnil,  Felix  with  his 
precious  Italian  produce,  German  intrigues,  the  Revenge, 
faded  away  into  the  lengthening  shadows.  A  trifle  suf- 
ficed to  recall  them.  A  hare  started  across  his  path,  and 
his  temperament,  prone  to  superstition,  set  him  at  once 
imagining  possible  misfortunes. 

His  throne  flung  upon  the  hazard  of  war, — this  at  once 
introduced  itself  as  the  most  terrifying,  and  jostled  aside 
the  presentment  of  any  minor  ills.  And  thus  he  came 
straightway  back  to  the  consideration  of  the  vital  ques- 
tion which  had  brought  him  down  to  Meaux.  The  all- 
pervading  calm  attuned  his  mind  to  anything  but  war. 
It  was  not  that  he  dreaded  to  convert  the  smiling  scene, 
and  many  another  like  it,  into  a  vast  weal  of  desola- 
tion. It  was  not  that  he  feared  to  turn  the  song  and 
laughter  of  passably  contented  folk  into  wailing  and 
lamentation.  It  was  nothing  more  than  this:  that  he 
trembled  to  risk  a  country  that  showed  so  rich  and  gra- 
cious, even  though  there  might  be  a  chance  of  adding  to 
its  boundaries  and  the  glory  of  his  name. 

It  was  the  soul  of  Laetizia  Ramolino  moving  within  him, 
the  parsimonious  ancestress.  What  he  had  already  was 
good;  why  strive  for  more,  and  jeopardize  all? 

"No,  no,"  he  murmured,  "my  family  no  longer  sig- 
nifies a  war  of  revenge.  It  means  this:  men  are  grown 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  221 

tired  of  corrupt  bourgeois  rulers  and  the  unstable  govern- 
ment resulting  from  a  too-rapid  succession  of  ship- 
broking  presidents  and  grocer-premiers.  They  want  a 
figure-head  who  has  some  distinction  of  his  own  be- 
sides the  distinction  which  they  can  give  him.  They  see 
in  me  an  equal  with  William  of  Germany,  not  necessarily 
a  rival." 

The  remark,  especially  the  latter  part,  pleased  him 
very  much.  He  went  over  it  several  times  afresh, 
smiling  all  the  while.  "William  of  Germany,"  as  he 
was  pleased  to  style  his  long-lost  cousin  and  brother, 
had  worried  him  much  in  days  gone  by.  It  was  a  pleas- 
ure at  last  to  be  able  to  number  himself  among  the  few 
equals  of  this  remarkable  potentate.  "  No,  no,"  he  re- 
peated with  redoubled  emphasis,  "it  shall  be  peace"; 
and  then  out  loud,  in  all  the  energy  of  conviction : 

"  France  is  big  enough  for  me." 

"You  would  indeed  be  hard  to  please  if  it  were  not 
so,"  came  a  girlish  voice  from  among  the  trees, — a  voice 
that  spoke  under  the  constraint  of  suppressed  laughter. 

Napoleon  started  as  though  he  had  been  shot;  then 
moved  gingerly  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

"Who  is  there?" 

No  answer  came,  save  the  rustling  of  hastily  parted 
leaves  and  the  soft  tread  of  light  feet  stealing  away. 

"Who  is  there?  "  he  cried  again,  this  time  with  ex- 
ceeding boldness,  though  not  so  boldly  as  to  conceal  all 
traces  of  a  tremor  in  his  tones.  He  felt  it  more  than 
likely  that  the  beautiful  voice  might  turn  out  to  be  a 
decoy.  He  ducked  his  head  to  escape  an  explosive  bul- 
let, and  in  so  doing  caught  a  sight,  in  dim  outlines,  of  the 
intruder,  through  a  tunnel  made  by  low-hanging  boughs. 
A  young  girl — from  her  figure  she  could  not  have  been 
over  twenty — was  creeping  hurriedly  on  tip-toe  towards 
a  small  stone  bridge  which  formed  the  river  gateway  to 
the  villa  grounds.  Her  lithe  and  graceful  figure  satisfied 
him  that  her  face  must  be  beautiful,  in  keeping.  He  felt 
more  certain  than  ever  that  she  came  from  the  Eurasian, 
Nadez,  and  that  he,  Napoleon,  was  meant  to  follow  and 
to  be  destroyed.  Nevertheless  he  dived  through  the 
thicket.  He  strode  after  her,  loudly  calling  upon  her  to 


222  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

stop.  Directly  the  girl  saw  that  escape  was  impossible, 
she  turned  and  faced  her  pursuer  with  a  show  of  utter 
indifference.  At  the  same  moment  the  feeble  gas-jet 
which  professed  to  light  the  bridge  flared  into  a  momen- 
tary brightness  and  disclosed  her  face. 

"  Mademoiselle!  "  he  muttered  with  all  the  reverence 
of  a  love  that  likewise  had  just  flared  up  out  of  a  feeble 
flame. 

"I  am  sure  I  beg  Monsieur's  pardon, "  she  exclaimed, 
breaking  abruptly  away  from  her  air  of  careless  disdain 
into  a  bright  smile;  "  I  am  very  sorry.  But,  honestly,  I 
could  not  help  it.  Monsieur  looked  so  very  comic,  it  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  I  could  keep  myself  from 
laughing  outright, " — a  difficulty  the  recurrence  of  which 
she  seemingly  experienced  at  that  moment. 

"I  am  glad  I  afforded  Mademoiselle  some  amuse- 
ment." 

"Indeed,  you  did.  I  regret  to  confess  that  I  have 
been  watching  you  for  many  minutes.  At  first  I 
thought  you  were  a  mad — that  you  were  lying  in  wait  to 
kill  the  Emperor;  but  your  concluding  remarks  showed 
me  that  your  intentions  were  peaceful.  I  am  so  sorry. 
Once  more,  Monsieur  must  believe  that  I  apologize  most 
sincerely;  and  at  the  same  time  permit  me  to  wish  him 
good-night,"  and  with  a  casual  nod  she  turned  and  strode 
away  across  the  sward,  disappearing  presently  over  the 
bridge,  into  the  blackness  of  the  other  bank. 

Napoleon  stood  for  a  while  motionless  in  a  transport  of 
ecstasy.  This  meeting  was  worth  kingdoms;  and  he  felt 
convinced  that  there  lurked  some  hidden  providence  be- 
hind it,  for  good  or  for  evil, — it  had  followed  so  close 
upon  his  recent  stroke  of  fortune.  Here  was  the  very 
sweetness  of  triumph  indeed;  and  of  a  triumph  that  con- 
tained something  still  sweeter,  albeit  fraught  with  a 
thousand  dangers. 

Every  word  Muriel  had  uttered,  every  ripple  of  her 
happy  laughter,  rang  through  his  ears,  haunting  him  long 
after  he  had  returned  to  the  Villa  Yvonne.  The  pale, 
somewhat  pinched  face,  illumined  by  the  wonderful 
eyes,  and  crowned  with  the  wealth  of  hair  that  shone  like 
burnished  copper,  was  once  again  as  vividly  before  him 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  223 

as  it  had  been  a  few  weeks  back.  Her  image  flitted 
across  his  dreams  and  told  him — of  what  his  waking 
thoughts  were  but  faintly  cognizant — that  it  had  found 
its  way  for  good  and  all  into  his  heart. 

The  next  day  brought  a  return  of  the  brilliant  sun- 
shine, but  also,  unhappily,  numerous  important  letters, 
among  which,  one  showing  that  the  good  people  of  Meaux 
had  not  taken  long  to  spy  out  the  angel  in  their  midst. 
They  craved  leave  to  present  an  address.  Napoleon 
sighed  as  he  bent  over  his  desk,  and  accepted  gladly, 
fixing  to-morrow,  and  sighing  yet  more  heavily  as  he  re- 
flected that  it  was  a  Saturday.  He  went  with  the  same 
grudging  spirit  through  the  remainder  of  his  correspond- 
ence, and  it  was  close  upon  three  before  he  could  give 
his  mind  free  range  over  last  night's  delicious  meeting. 

"  Godefroy, "  he  exclaimed  with  a  fine  assumption  of 
indifference, — his  valet  had  just  brought  in  a  cup  of  tea, — 
"Godefroy,  the  good  people  from  Meaux  seem  to  use 
these  grounds  of  mine  pretty  freely." 

"  H'm,"  grunted  Godefroy.      "  Sugar?" 

"  No  sugar,  thank  you.  I  found  one  of  them  strolling 
by  the  river  yesterday  evening." 

"They  do  no  harm,"  grumbled  the  servant. 

"They  do  no  harm;  but — " 

"I  note  your  Majesty's  complaint.  The  keepers 
shall  have  word  to  stop  it." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  scarcely  mean  that.  As  you  say,  they  do 
no  harm;  and  one  does  not  wish  to  become  unpopular. 
No,  no,  Godefroy;  you  needn't  go  to  those  lengths." 

These  last  words  must  have  come  forth  with  suspicious 
eagerness.  At  any  rate,  Godefroy  darted  a  quick  glance 
at  Napoleon's  face;  then  turned  away  without  ceremony 
and  busied  himself  with  the  tea  things. 

For  a  few  minutes  neither  spoke. 

"  Then  it  was  a  lady  whom  your  Majesty  found  stroll- 
ing beside  the  river  yesterday  evening?  "  Godefroy  said 
at  last,  in  a  tone  quite  unlike  any  he  had  used  hitherto. 

The  young  man  smiled.  "Yes,  Godefroy,  it  was  a 
lady." 

"Take  care!  take  care!"  the  other  rejoined  with 
growing  earnestness.  "You  will  ruin  yourself,  us  your 


224  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

adherents,  and  possibly  France."  He  had  already 
turned  full  upon  the  Emperor,  and  was  now  stretching 
out  both  hands  (his  fingers  were  like  gherkins)  towards 
the  latter  in  earnest  supplication. 

Napoleon  smiled  a  second  smile  of  even  greater  satis- 
faction. 

"Never  fear,  honest  Godefroy, "  he  returned  with  a 
reassuring  nod;  "  I  will  be  circumspect.  I  promise  you 
that  much.  You  don't,  you  cannot,  suppose  that  I  in- 
tend to  drop  this  fine  empire  over  a  petticoat?  " 

"  Many  a  better  man  has  dropped  a  finer  empire  from 
the  same  cause,"  honest  Godefroy  rejoined.  "I  know 
something  about  the  women,  and  I  can  tell  you  they  are, 
one  and  all,  dangerous.  Take  my  advice,  your  Majesty, 
and  get  married  as  quickly  as  you  can.  For  heaven's 
sake  don't  delay  it  under  the  impression  that  you  can 
enjoy  yourself  a  bit  beforehand.  Ugh!  "  the  old  fellow 
went  on  with  a  genuine  shudder,  "I  never  can  forget 
how  that  poor  Archduke  met  his  death — shot  lying  on 
his  bed!  shot  like  a  cowardly  dog!  assassinated  under 
•the  cover  of  a  pretended  duel !  Do  n't  you  ever  get  your- 
self into  the  same  predicament.  I  do  n't  think  you  would 
put  up  with  it  quite  as  brav —  quietly  as  a  Hapsburg;  you 
are  not  the  same  sort  of  man  at  all." 

"Come,  come,"  Napoleon  cried,  hardly  knowing 
whether  to  be  amused  or  angry,  "  are  you  not  jumping 
rather  to  conclusions?  I  nourish  no  evil  designs  against 
— against — against  any  living  soul."  Then  with  a  sud- 
den access  of  pompous  dignity,  "it  is  n't  my  way,  I  can 
assure  you.  Besides,  this — this  young  stranger  is  a 
lady." 

"  All  the  worse.  So  was  she.  That's  why  he  died 
like  a  dog." 

"  Thank  you,"  very  haughtily,  "  I  have  heard  enough 
of  the  late  Archduke.  Tell  me,  Godefroy," — this  more 
cheerfully, — "  do  you  happen  to  know  anything  of  a  cer- 
tain Earl  of  Framlingham,  an  English  nobleman  who  has 
a  villa  near  here?  " 

"  You  mean  the  late  ambassador?  " 

"  That  is  he." 

"Nothing  at   all,"  the  valet   said   slowly,  making  a 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  225 

mental  note  to  the  effect  that  he  would  find  out  a  good 
deal. 

"I  think  it  is  the  same  man,"  Napoleon  pursued; 
"though  I  am  not  quite  certain.  His  wife  is  French,  I 
understand,  and  owns  property  in  this  neighbourhood. 
I  wish  you  would  discover  where;  and  all  about  it  and 
them.  He  has  a  son — two  sons;  one  of  them  was  my 
dearest  friend  over  in  England.  Two  sons,  and  perhaps 
a  daughter." 

'  Mademoiselle  was  by  the  riverside  last  night?  " 
*       'Yes,  she  was." 

'Worse  and  worse,"  groaned  Godefroy. 

'  You  need  not  wait,"  Napoleon  replied  coldly. 

'Ah,  your  Majesty,"  his  servant  persevered  a  last 
time,  his  hand  upon  the  door,  "take  care,  take  care!  " 
And  to  point  the  value  of  this  warning  it  may  be  added 
that  the  master  spent  his  evening  to  no  purpose  by  the 
steps  of  the  little  bridge. 

The  following  morning  he  made  another  attempt.  In 
the  middle  of  breakfast  the  sudden  thought  came  to  him, 
that  she  might  at  this  identical  moment  be  down  there 
beside  the  river.  He  started  up  to  go  and  see.  But 
Godefroy  intercepted  him  before  he  had  even  crossed 
the  gravel  path  which  lay  beneath  his  veranda. 
"  M'sieu  forgets,"  murmured  the  domestic,  a  faint  smile 
playing  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth;  "  his  letters  re- 
quire attention.  Then  there  is  the  deputation  at  eleven." 
"M'sieu"  felt  that  he  had  been  caught  in  the  act. 
He  said  no  word,  but  merely  obeyed  with  a  comfortless 
little  laugh,  retracing  his  steps  to  the  house.  There  he 
shut  himself  up  in  his  library,  opposite  those  hateful  un- 
opened missives,  which  descended  upon  him  daily  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to  interfere  with  his  pleasure. 

To-day  they  were  more  disagreeable  than  ever.  The 
Minister  of  War  alone  sent  three  urgent  appeals.  "  Come 
back  to  Paris  at  once!  "  ran  one  of  them, — a  fair  sample 
of  the  whole, — "things  are  far  worse  than  I  have  stated 
in  the  two  other  letters  which  will  arrive  by  this  post. 
Clouds  of  Germans  hover  about  the  frontier.  Couriers, 
just  arrived  from  Provence,  inform  me  that  Piedmont  is 
a  camp.  The  blow  may  fall  at  any  moment.  In  God's 


226  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

name,  be  here  to  defend,  since  you  have  let  slip  the 
chance  to  attack." 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  these  outbursts  frightened 
him.  For  one  thing,  they  were  so  very  nastily  worded. 
In  time,  with  the  advent  of  greater  experience,  he  would 
know  how  to  value  them  at  their  proper  worth.  But  it 
was  mean  of  the  Minister  thus  to  take  advantage  of  his 
callow  state,  especially  after  his  own  magnanimous  be- 
haviour. He  did  n't  mean  to  forgive  him  for  it.  He 
proceeded  to  deal  with  Brisson's  missives  on  their  merits, 
and  by  a  chain  of  viva  voce  reasoning,  which  may  or  may 
not  have  been  convincing,  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
these  were  nil.  So  he  said  "Bah!"  once  or  twice  with 
considerable  vehemence,  and  spent  the  next  two  hours 
in  absolute  and  unconquerable  idleness.  With  an  arm 
supported  on  the  elbow  of  his  chair,  and  his  head  droop- 
ing wearily  upon  his  arm,  he  suffered  his  gaze  to  travel 
mournfully  through  the  open  windows.  "She  is  down 
there  by  the  river, "  he  kept  murmuring.  "Possibly 
waiting  for  me,"  his  love  continued,  deducing — as  love 
does — such  warm  and  cheering  conclusions  from  such 
slender  premises.  He  made  an  attempt  to  begin  a  reply 
to  Brisson;  but  in  vain.  He  flung  his  pen  from  him. 
"She  is  down  there  by  the  river,"  was  the  only  coher- 
ent thought  he  could  get  to;  that,  and  occasionally, 
"Bah!  the  fellow  is  an  incompetent.  No  one  wants  to 
fight  us. " 

What  had  become  of  his  energy,  his  powers  of  in- 
dustry, of  former  years?  What  indeed?  Alas,  it  was 
many  a  long  day  since  he  and  they  had  had  aught  in 
common.  Pimlico  the  Abomination  had  killed  them. 
But  surely,  surely  they  were  not  quite  dead.  Responsi- 
bilities, not  to  mention  decent  clothes  and  a  full  stom- 
ach, would  revivify  them  The  thing  went  without  say- 
ing. Already  his  "application" — as  they  call  it  in 
young  ladies'  schools — was  a  shade  better  than  it  had 
been  a  few  months  back.  Just  to  prove  as  much,  he 
opened  his  remaining  letters  and  strewed  them  about 
the  table. 

Comforted  in  this  belief,  he  gave  himself  over  alto- 
gether to  the  demon  of  idleness.  He  dipped_his  pen  into 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  227 

the  ink  to  have  it  ready  for  Godefroy,  then  he  strolled 
through  the  open  window  to  the  balcony  which  ran 
along  the  length  of  the  gardenside.  This  balcony 
encased,  besides  his  own,  the  three  windows  of  the  small 
reception-room  which  had  to  serve  for  any  Imperial  en- 
tertainments. Our  hero  gazed  in  mournfully  at  the  dec- 
orated chamber.  His  spirits  were  at  a  low  ebb  indeed, 
when  furniture  had  lost  its  power  to  charm.  He  only 
thought  how  cold  and  desolate  it  looked,  lacking  as  it 
did  that  touch  of  a  woman's  hand  which  alone  can  ren- 
der these  places  of  ceremony  habitable.  The  sunlight 
fell  in  rich  rays  across  the  enamelled  walls,  the  rugs,  and 
polished  floors.  To  his  dreaming  brain  it  set  its  halo 
round  something  far  more  beautiful, — the  ivory-tinted 
skin,  the  deep  grey  eyes,  the  shining  hair,  and,  more 
than  all,  that  indefinable  smile  which  made  his  heart 
ache  merely  to  think  of.  He  was  an  Emperor,  truly, 
with  a  good  large  stage,  but  what  he  wanted  most  was 
still  far  out  of  reach. 

But  the  sound  of  carriage  wheels,  followed  by  the  con- 
tinuous shuffling  of  feet  in  the  hall  below,  warned  him 
of  the  coming  deputation.  He  had  barely  time  to  fling 
himself  into  the  midst  of  his  papers,  when  Godefroy  en- 
tered with  word  that  it  awaited  his  pleasure  in  the  coun- 
cil chamber.  Numerically — as  he  learnt  to  his  great  joy 
from  the  hats  in  the  hall — the  deputation  was  a  small  one. 
In  weight  and  importance,  however,  it  proved  the  largest 
which  Meaux  could  produce. 

Monsieur  Verre  accompanied  it  as  sponsor,  and,  so  to 
speak,  pervaded  every  part  of  it.  The  Mayor  was  present, 
the  fat  gentleman  over  there  in  the  corner,  muttering  the 
skeletons  of  an  oration.  Beside  him  stood  the  Prefect 
of  the  department,  who  was  engaged  in  a  critical  survey 
of  the  furniture  and  painted  ceiling.  Two  members  of 
the  Municipal  Council,  a  prominent  Meaux  manufacturer, 
and  the  Sub-prefect  completed  the  gathering. 

They  all  bowed  as  the  Emperor  made  his  appearance. 
Verre  raised  his  hand,  and  the  Mayor  and  Prefect  ad- 
vanced, in  step,  and  side  by  side,  towards  their  master. 

These  two  functionaries  differed  widely.  The  Prefect 
had  an  aspect  of  great  acuteness.  His  habit  was  to  cast 


228  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

scrutinizing  glances  in  all  directions,  and  scan  every  face 
as  though  he  were  piercing  into  the  inmost  recesses  of 
the  heart.  Then  he  would  close  his  jaws  with  a  snap, 
pursing  his  thin  lips,  as  though  to  say,  "I  have  taken 
your  measure,  my  dear  creature.  Do  not  trouble  to  try 
and  deceive  me."  Yet  in  truth  he  was  an  irreclaimable 
ass, — the  incarnation  of  obtuse  self-sufficiency.  As  for 
the  Mayor,  he  looked  the  fool  the  other  was.  In  face 
and  figure  not  unlike  Godefroy,  he  lacked  the  latter's 
bright,  twinkling  eyes.  Indeed,  the  head  of  the  town 
always  seemed  half  asleep.  He  moved  about  with 
extreme  slowness.  He  breathed  stertorously,  and  he 
gazed  out  through  half-closed  eyelids  upon  a  world  that 
was  habitually  careless  of  what  he  said  or  did.  Yet  the 
pupils  of  the  lazy  eyes  often  hardened  to  observe  minute 
points  left  unnoticed  by  men  with  almost  as  an  acute 
gaze,  and  fifty  times  the  intelligence  of  his  official 
superior. 

Monsieur  Verre  hovered  behind  them;  he  began: 

"Majesty,  this  is  an  honour  which  Meaux  has  for 
many  years  merited,  but  never  received." 

They  all  bowed.  The  Prefect  laced  his  long  white 
hands  cupwise,  while  the  Mayor  left  his  head  bent  for- 
ward upon  his  bosom.  Possibly  he  had  forgotten  it. 
The  Minister  resumed: 

"You  are  very  welcome.  Our  most  earnest  prayer  is 
that  our  beautiful  district  will  have  a  beneficial  effect 
upon  your  health.  We  all — not  least  myself — know  the 
cares  and  trials  of  your  arduous  position.  If  I  may  be 
permitted  to  refer  to  it,  I,  too,  was  at  the  helm  of  state 
for — for — a  short  time.  I  venture  to  think  that  the 
country  still  bears  some  imprint  of  my  beneficent  rule." 
He  waved  a  majestic  forefinger  in  the  direction  of  the 
Mayor. 

The  Prefect  took  this  as  a  signal. 

"Monsieur  speaks  the  truth,"  said  he.  "All  of  us 
who  enjoy,  or  who  have  enjoyed  places  of  responsibility, 
know  the  fearful  inroads  they  make  upon  the  constitu- 
tion. Meaux  is  especially  adapted  to  nervous  com- 
plaints, ' ' — he  pierced  his  Majesty  through  and  through, — 
"nervous  complaints,  and  maladies  arising  from  brain- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  229 

worries.  Your  Majesty  must  have  many  such,  none  can 
doubt.  In  a  few  months  you  will  have  many,  very 
many,  more.  For  your  o.wn  sake  we  hope  to  see  you 
often  among  us,  soothed  and  calmed  amid  the  foliage  of 
our  beautiful  department.  How  greatly  we  shall  benefit 
thereby,  I  need  not  mention." 

Verre  gave  him  the  millionth  part  of  a  second. 

"These  gentlemen,"  the  Minister  then  resumed  with 
a  comprehensive  wave,  "represent  all  that  is  best  and 
wisest  in  our  small  society.  They,  and  their  fellow- 
townsmen  through  them,  bid  you  welcome." 

There  was  a  brief  silence,  broken  only  by  the  Mayor's 
stertorous  breathing.  Napoleon  fancied  this  might  be 
the  prelude  to  a  short  harangue.  In  point  of  fact  it  went 
unconcernedly  on,  neither  lessening  nor  growing  greater, 
but  keeping  ever  the  same  gentle  even  murmur. 

So  his  Majesty  commenced  in  his  turn. 

"  I  thank  you,  gentlemen,  for  your  kindly  welcome. 
I  thank  you  for  the  promptitude  with  which  it  has  been 
given.  At  present  I  am  a  stranger  in  your  beautiful 
city,  but  I  trust  soon  to  wipe  that  reproach  away.  I  can 
well  believe,  as  Monsieur  the  Prefect  maintains,  that  its 
calm  has  an  especially  beneficial  effect  upon  the  nerves. 
I  have  found  out  so  much,  even  before  he  told  me.  We 
have  all  been  through  stirring  times  lately,  and  need 
soothing.  The  future,  however," — and  he  looked  fixedly 
at  the  Prefect,  who,  for  his  part,  was  just  then  subjecting 
the  Mayor  to  a  somewhat  severe  scrutiny, — "the  future, 
however,  is  likely  to  yield  that,  no  less  than  Meaux.  At 
present,  I  can  foresee  nothing  calculated  to  shatter  our 
already  sufficiently  broken  spirits." 

With  this  significant  remark,  he  made  an  end  of 
speaking.  After  a  few  incoherent  words  from  the 
Mayor,  the  deputation  adjourned  to  the  dining-room, 
and  Napoleon  .saw  them  no  more. 

Such  expedition  could  have  but  one  reward.  The 
Emperor  did  not  wait  for  the  deputation  to  finish  its 
lunch  and  depart,  but  passed  almost  immediately  from 
the  council  chamber  into  the  villa  grounds.  He  took  the 
only  path  he  knew,  that  leading  to  the  strip  of  sward 
beside  the  river  and  the  small  stone  bridge.  And  he 


230  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

sought  this  sacred  spot  without  much  hope, — the  reason, 
perhaps,  why  his  search  at  last  succeeded. 

He  hardly  dared  believe  his  eyes.  Yet  it  could  be  no 
one  else.  She  stood  at  the  water's  edge,  her  back 
towards  him,  gazing  intently  into  some  placid  pool. 
Her  parasol,  and  an  open  book  turned  face  downwards, 
lay  a  little  way  up  the  sloping  bank.  Of  what  was  she 
thinking  so  earnestly,  that  she  did  not  hear  the  beating 
of  his  heart?  Her  beautiful  head  was  bent  forward ;  did 
it  seek  some  likeness  of  his  face  in  the  still  waters?  It 
must  be  so.  She  loved  him  as  he  loved  her.  His 
vigils  in  her  name,  his  hours  of  agony,  had  gone  forth, — 
as  they  always  do — from  heart  to  heart.  He  had  seen 
her  twice,  once  without  speaking,  he  had  never  written. 
Yet  she  knew,  inasmuch  as  his  great  love  had  assuredly 
brought  her  into  that  real  spirit  world,  wherein  it  needs 
neither  presence,  nor  pens  nor  ink,  to  tell  one's  secrets. 
For  the  rest,  if  she  had  really  fashioned  his  face  upon 
the  surface,  she  did  not  keep  it  long.  Lifting  an  arm, 
she  loosed  a  pebble  from  her  grasp,  then,  with  her  head 
fallen  forward  once  more  upon  her  breast,  she  relapsed 
into  dreams. 

"Mademoiselle,"  he  whispered,  oh,  so  softly. 

Still  she  did  not  hear.  He  left  the  path,  coming 
closer  than  her  book  and  parasol,  quivering  nervously 
all  the  while,  but  resolved  not  to  let  the  chance  slip  by. 
He  had  been  here  too  often  already. 

"Mademoiselle,"  once  more,  and  this  time  with 
trembling  voice. 

Mademoiselle  turned  full  round.  Her  brow  was  heavy 
with  something  that  perplexed  it, — something  not  Na- 
poleon, for  it  cleared  at  once. 

"  Ah,"  said  she  composedly,  "  so  it  is  you." 

He  was  a  trifle  taken  aback  by  this  cool  reception.  If 
she  knew  what  he  felt,  and  felt  the  same  herself,  she 
managed  to  conceal  her  love  and  knowledge  remarkably 
well. 

"Yes,  Mademoiselle,"  he  murmured,  "it  is  I;  and  I 
did  not  look  for  such  a  pleasure." 

She  must  have  just  then  recalled  the  memory  of  their 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  231 

first  meeting.  Her  mouth  twitched;  she  seemed  des- 
perately inclined  to  burst  out  laughing. 

"Look,"  she  cried  instead,  turning  back  abruptly  to 
the  water,  and  with  all  the  apparent  inconsequence  of  a 
child,  "  have  you  ever  seen  it  so  clear?  " 

"Never  indeed," — he  was  beside  her  now,  and  he 
could  catch  the  reflexion  of  her  face. 

"How  they  glisten,"  she  cried  again;  "that  tiny  one 
there,  especially.  Its  scales  might  be  diamonds." 

"And  how  one  envies  them  their  element." 

They  spoke  in  English;  and  he  regretted  next  minute 
that  he  had  not  employed  a  simpler  term.  Element 
seemed  so  strained;  the  word  one  expects  from  a  man 
who  is  not  "quite  the  thing"  and  knows  it.  But  that 
is  the  worst  of  love,  at  all  events  in  its  earlier  stages — 
three  parts  a  paralyzing  self-consciousness,  and  the  rest 
one  mad  desire  to  display  before  the  loved  being  all  one's 
virtues  and  social  advantages. 

Certainly,  he  felt  no  desire  yet  a  while  to  disclose  his 
kingship.  But  he  did  want  her  to  know  that  he  had  re- 
ceived his  education  at  Winchester  and  Oxford;  that  he 
had  been  a  popular  member  of  his  school,  and  by  no 
means  a  pariah  at  college;  that  he  had  always  been  able 
to  "draw"  the  largest  union  audiences,  and  that  he 
might  have  done  more  in  the  rowing  line,  had  he  been 
less  industrious.  She  ought  to  hear,  besides,  that  he 
had  passed  through  his  English  life  incognito,  a  sort  of 
fairy  prince  only  half  disguised.  How  explain  otherwise 
his  modified  success  among  earls  and  marquises  and  the 
grandsons  of  defunct  prime  ministers  and  the  grand- 
fathers of  prime  ministers  not  yet  born?  What  sort  of 
life  would  he,  the  ward  of  a  suburban  bourgeois,  have 
had  at  Magdalen,  had  not  these  guessed  something  of 
his  lineage,  while  he  as  yet  was  ignorant?  Birth,  like 
murder,  will  out.  De  Morin  could  not  rob  him  of  his 
eloquence,  his  magnanimity,  his  noble  bearing.  Later 
on,  when  she  did  know  his  kingship,  he  would  weave  her 
a  little  romance  showing  how  two  especially  important 
noblemen — neither  of  them  Lord  Mendril — had  actually 
taxed  him  with  using  an  alias.  He  would  give  names, 


232  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

too,  chancing  it  whether  she  knew  them  or  not.  For  he 
felt  justly  that,  as  things  stood,  he  might  safely  claim 
a  posthumous  acquaintance  with  half  the  peerage  in 
Great  Britain. 

But  most  of  all  he  desired  to  tell  her  about  his  char- 
acter. Very  few  words  on  his  part  would  suffice  to  show 
her  how  far  he  was  from  being  either  vain  or  conceited 
or  a  prig,  despite  his  many  accomplishments.  Ah,  he 
had  tasted  too  deeply  of  the  world's  bitterness  to  be 
any  of  these  things.  A  gentle  cynicism  lay  deep  within 
him;  but  not  so  deep  that  she  should  not  learn  all  about 
it — in  time. 

And  this  is  love!  How  much  simpler  if  one  could  go 
through  it  without  troubling  the  young  lady.  What  a 
saving  in  tearful  partings,  blistered  letters,  and  locks  of 
hair!  We  merely  inveigle  a  second  person — with  fine 
eyes  and  a  white  skin — into  worshipping  at  our  shrine. 
Well,  and  she  is  doing  identically  the  same  thing!  Lucky 
the  man  who  can  perform  his  devotions  without  help  from 
outside.  He  is  self-sufficing  indeed. 

"Yes,  truly,  one  envies  them  their  element,"  he  re- 
peated. 

The  young  lady  was  actually  chewing  grass.  She 
paid  not  the  least  heed  to  his  nervous  phrases,  but  in- 
stead gazed  across  the  river  into  space,  the  trace  of 
laughter  still  about  her  lips. 

"  Do  you  live  in  this  neighbourhood?  "  Napoleon  asked 
presently. 

"We  are  here  this  summer.     And  you?  " 

"  I? — oh,  I — I  am  a  visitor  here;  that  is  all." 

"Indeed,"  murmured  Mademoiselle,  while  the  smile 
deepened.  She  stuck  bravely  to  her  grass,  however,  and 
overcame  it. 

" It  is  a  charming  spot,"  he  continued  with  growing 
complacency,  now  that  he  was  fairly  started.  "And  I — 
I  fancy  I  have  seen  Mademoiselle  in  London." 

"  Very  possibly." 

"Are  you  not  a  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Framling- 
ham?  " 

She  laughed  outright  this  time:  "  I  had  no  idea  I  was 
so  well  known,"  she  said. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  233 

"  I  assure  you  it  was  by  the  merest  chance,"  he  has- 
tened to  rejoin  with  questionable  deprecation.  "I  hap- 
pened to  be  dining  in  Jervis's  restaurant  one  night  last 
June.  Your  father  and  mother  were  there,  and  you  were 
with  them.  The  Earl's  face,  at  least,  is  a  familiar  one 
to  all  Londoners.  Seeing  you  side  by  side,  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  finding  the  relationship." 

She  was  studying  his  face  with  some  care,  and  a  puz- 
zled look  had  come  into  her  eyes. 

"  I  do  not  remember,"  she  murmured. 

"  Monsieur  Carache,  and  Mervan  the  singer,  were  of 
the  party,  if  I  recollect  rightly." 

"And  still  I  cannot  remember,"  she  persisted.  He 
began  to  falter  under  her  steady  gaze. 

"Your  brother  also  made  one.  And  you  went  after- 
wards to  the  opera — Lohengrin,  you  know;  and  I  was 
in  the  stalls  and — and — had  a  good  view  of  Made —  of 
Monsieur  Carache,  who  sat  in  your  box." 

"No,  I  cannot  remember." 

"Ah,  Mademoiselle  was  there  many  times  this  sea- 
son," he  hesitated. 

"No,  no,  I  recall  the  occasion  perfectly.  But  your 
face — I  cannot  recall  that." 

He  broke  into  a  nervous  laugh,  the  humility  of  Pim- 
lico  back  upon  him.  "  That  may  well  be.  Probably  I  was 
in  a  very  modest  corner  behind  one  of  the  pillars.  Jervis 
has  one  or  two  pillars,  you  know, — large  pillars,  very 
suitable  for  shrinking  natures." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  and  she  resumed  her  survey  of  the 
other  bank. 

"  Mademoiselle  sees  something  very  interesting  over 
yonder?  "  he  ventured  with  a  new  note  of  softness. 

"I  was  thinking,"  she  answered  gravely;  and  then, 
brushing  her  reveries  away  with  strange  abruptness,  "  It 
is  pretty  from  here." 

"  Very  pretty.     We  are  near  your  father's  grounds?  " 

"Those  across  the  river.  We  have  an  illustrious 
neighbour." 

"Yes.  I  wonder  his  Majesty  allows  strangers  to 
roam  about — pardon,  Mademoiselle,  I  was  thinking  of 
myself.  I  might  be  a  particularly  dangerous  conspirator. ' ' 


234  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"You!  Forgive  a  smile,  Monsieur,  but  you  do  not 
look  like  one.  I  think  I  should  always  trust  you." 

"You  flatter  me.  Remember,  however,  anarchists 
and  nihilists  and  the  rest  of  them  have  wonderful  dis- 
guises. " 

"  Probably  the  Emperor  has  not  begun  to  think  of 
those  things  yet,"  she  said;  "they  come  later  on." 

"You  would  know  better  than  I.  You  are  his  neigh- 
bour." 

"We  never  see  him.  Both  he  and  we  are  here  very 
seldom." 

"Is  he  not  here  now?"  Napoleon  asked,  too  intent 
on  his  own  movements  to  notice  the  curious  look  which 
she  gave  him  or  the  brusque  laugh  that  accompanied  her 
answer. 

"  Really,  Monsieur,  I  cannot  tell  you.  I  do  not  study 
his  doings  quite  so  carefully." 

"  His  story  is  a  very  romantic  one,"  he  began  again. 
"  In  my  opinion  it  is  that  more  than  anything  else  which 
recommends  him  to  his  countrymen." 

"Perhaps,"  she  answered.  Next  minute,  very  ab- 
sently indeed,  "He  will  soon  be  getting  married.  I 
suppose  they  already  talk  about  it  in  Paris?  " 

"  He  will  find  it  a  difficult  task.  His  throne  is  scarcely 
quite  secure  enough  at  present  to  tempt  any  eligible 
princess." 

"True.      His  lineage,  too,  will  hamper  him." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  Bonaparte  answered, 
a  trifle  ruefully.  "  He  has  Hapsburg  blood  in  his 
veins." 

"Dear  me,  no,"  she  laughed — and  he  began  to  hate 
that  flute  note;  "I  wonder  you  make  that  mistake  at 
this  time  of  day. "  And  \vith  more  vivacity  than  she  had 
hitherto  used,  she  proceeded  to  unfold  to  him  the  story 
of  the  Sartena  marriage. 

"  Italian  on  both  sides,  you  observe — Italian,  with  an 
English  training.  The  result  may  be  good  enough  in  its 
way;  but  one  can  hardly  imagine  that  it  fits  him  for  his 
present  position." 

"  Mademoiselle  studies  politics?  " 

"No,"  she  hastily  rejoined;  "I  merely  repeat  what 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  235 

my  father  says.  He  studies  them"  ;  then,  with  a  resump- 
tion of  her  former  indifference: 

"They  say  he  is  to  marry  a  Russian  princess." 

"I  have  not  heard  so." 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have  mentioned  it;  the  thing 
is  not  generally  known.  We  got  the  report  from  the  em- 
bassy itself." 

"  A  good  source." 

"Most  certainly.  Monsieur  Prehlen  knows  every- 
thing." 

"  More  than  the  Emperor  himself?  " 

"  Quite  likely.  Men  in  his  high  position  are  very  often 
puppets." 

"  He  would  be  flattered  to  hear  what  Mademoiselle 
says." 

"You  may  be  sure  I  should  never  say  as  much  in  his 
presence." 

"One  has  an  idea  that  English  young  ladies  always 
say  what  they  think." 

"  Monsieur  is  English?  " 

"I  was  educated  in  England — in  fact,  I  am  an  old 
Wykehamist.  I  was  also  at  Oxford. " 

"At  Oxford?" 

"Yes.     Magdalen." 

"  My  brother's  college  was  Christ  Church.  Did  you 
come  across  him  up  there?"  she  asked,  with  perhaps 
something  more  than  the  delightful  vagueness  of  all 
young  ladies. 

"No,"  he  answered  gallantly;  "I  fancy  that  I  must 
have  been  a  good  deal  senior  to  him.  I  confess  I  do  not 
remember  having  met  him." 

She  did  not  answer  and  he  had  nothing  more  to  say. 
Bristling  as  he  was  with  every  sort  of  information,  bio- 
graphical and  otherwise,  he  had  nothing  more  to  say. 
First  he  watched  such  faint  reflexion  as  the  waters  gave, 
then  let  his  glance  steal  upwards.  The  old  look  of  per- 
plexity once  more  covered  her  brow.  The  faint  lines 
about  her  eyes  were  puckered,  and  the  faint  lines  about 
her  mouth.  She  gazed  straight  before  her  at  no  ascer- 
tainable  object;  and  he  might  have  been  miles  away  or 
out  of  existence  altogether. 


236  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Clearly,  she  was  not  thinking  about  him;  for  he  stood 
beside  her,  and  reveries  about  him  would  surely  keep  till 
he  was  gone.  The  Russian  ambassador  and  the  Russian 
embassy  were  not  less  likely — he  did  not  give  his  mind 
free  range  over  the  entire  personnel.  If  only  he  could 
break  the  ice.  He  had  never  made  love  before ;  that  was 
the  worst  of  it.  And  so  she  would  leave  him  this  second 
time  as  well,  without  finding  out  that  she  was  something 
more  to  him  than — than  the  multitude  of  other  young 
ladies  that  clustered  through  the  world.  Surely  it  was 
not  much?  Yet  it  was  more  than  he  could  do. 

The  next  minute  came  the  dreaded  words  which  had 
hung  over  him  all  along.  "I  must  be  moving  home," 
she  cried.  "Oh,  dear,  my  book — " 

"  Let  me. "  He  yielded  up  her  property  with  extreme 
reluctance;  asking  her  as  he  did  so  if  he  might  accom- 
pany her  to  the  bridge.  Alas,  it  was  but  a  moment's 
respite,  and  he  could  not  use  it.  She  would  not  cede 
him  an  inch  beyond  his  boundary. 

"  Our  roads  part  here,"  she  exclaimed.  "Adieu,  your 
Majesty. ' ' 

And  she  was  far  out  of  sight  before  he  had  recovered 
his  composure. 


Chapter  III 


It  is  not  given  to  every  one  to  penetrate  into  the  family 
circle  of  a  genuine  earl  who  owns  a  mansion  off  Berkeley 
Square  and  a  place  in  Devonshire  and  a  house  in  Paris 
(through  his  wife)  and  a  villa  at  Meaux  (also  through  his 
wife),  and  a  garter  (through  his  father — the  late  Lord 
having  died  just  as  that  enviable  distinction  was  coming 
his  way)  some  ten  years  before  he  has  rightly  earned  it. 
And  his  garter  and  his  title  and  his  dwellings  are  not 
among  the  least  of  my  lord  of  Framlingham's  distinc- 
tions. He  had  been  ambassador  in  Paris  for  exactly  four 
calendar  months;  while  the  Indian  viceroyship  never  be- 
came vacant  without  his  being  nominated  by  Fleet  Street 
to  fill  the  post.  Whether  because  of  his  obvious  fitness, 
or  his  heavy  mouth,  or  his  tired  eyes,  history  telleth  not. 
The  fact  remains.  Eight  years  ago,  just  after  his  sixteen 
weeks  in  Paris,  a  new  satrap  being  required,  no  one  was 
held  to  have  a  better  chance.  Lord  Rensmore  got  it — 
that  maternally  American  baron  who  introduced  the 
Yankee  accent  in  its  purest  form  into  Government  House. 
At  the  expiration  of  his  term,  seven  years  later,  our  earl 
once  again  took  the  field.  This  time,  an  evening  jour- 
nal which  has  the  greatest  circulation  among  marquises 
in  the  United  Kingdom  declared  him  to  be  the  only  pos- 
sible candidate.  There  was  one  impossible  one:  he  got 
it.  The  Earl's  name  went  over  for  future  use.  The  oc- 
casion came  quickly  enough.  The  new  vicereine  could 
not  stand  the  climate.  Her  consort  trembled  before  the 
prospect  of  six  long  years  in  single  blessedness.  Many 
other  little  things  cropped  up  to  worry  him.  One  day, 
when  the  prickly  heat  lay  thick  upon  him,  he  sat  him  down 
and  sent  in  his  resignation.  This  event  occurred  a  week 
prior  to  the  commencement  of  our  story.  The  new  ruler 

237 


238  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

had  not  yet  been  chosen;  but  every  one  knew  who  it 
would  be.  And  at  the  point  of  time  wherewith  this  pres- 
ent chapter  deals — to  wit,  the  evening  of  Napoleon's 
arrival  at  Meaux  and  of  his  first  meeting  with  Muriel — 
probably  the  only  people  who  had  an  inkling  to  the  con- 
trary were  my  lord  himself  and  my  lord's  good  lady. 

The  reasons  for  such  persistent  failure  were  not  far  to 
seek.  They  take  us  back  to  his  abortive  embassy.  That 
had  started  under  the  fairest  auspices.  Comparatively 
unknown  before  his  appointment,  he  had  come  to  it  with 
a  French  wife  and  an  unsullied  accent  at  an  age  (forty- 
two)  when  learned  juniors  are  commencing  to  rake  in 
their  earliest  guineas  amid  the  acclamations  of  their 
maiden  aunts.  This  was  in  the  year  of  jubilee.  It 
proved  the  only  untoward  event  of  that  festive  season. 
His  measureless  pride,  his  coldness  of  manner,  which 
was  mostly  diffidence,  soon  raised  many  enemies.  Week 
by  week  he  involved  himself  in  some  fresh  little  mess. 
And  not  content  to  let  these  accumulate  into  their  own 
goodly  pile,  he  must  needs  crown  the  growing  edifice 
with  a  betise  that  nearly  ended  in  war. 

The  history  is  quite  short.  He  had  come  over  to 
England  on  leave.  While  opening  a  Parish  Institute  at 
Tipton-St.-John,  he  made  some  perfectly  harmless  re- 
marks anent  his  present  employment.  These  leaked  into 
the  Gallic  newspapers,  which  were  pleased  to  take 
offence.  Most  gave  him  the  merest  lick  with  the  rougher 
side  of  their  tongues,  saying  that  they  did  expect  some- 
thing better  from  the  husband  of  their  charming  country- 
woman, and  hinting  a  little  about  crocodiles  and  the 
Nile.  Our  poor  friend  had  never  been  crossed  before  in 
the  whole  of  his  fair-weather  life.  He  met  the  reproof  like 
an  —  earl.  He  allowed  it  to  touch  him  on  his  weakest 
spot,  his  ungovernable  temper.  He  went  back  to  the 
Parish  Institute,  and  gave  the  Gauls  such  a  dressing  as 
they  have  not  had  since  Waterloo,  of  odious  memory. 
Paris  lashed  herself  into  a  ferment.  Journals,  without 
distinction  of  party,  clamoured  for  his  head.  On  the 
boulevards  men  talked  gloomily  of  extradition,  and  the 
"  Rue  de  Bow."  Orators  in  the  Chamber  seriously  sug- 
gested a  punitive  expedition  against  Tipton;  many  of 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  239 

them  fancied  that  it  lay  near  Samory's  sphere  of  influ- 
ence, and  that  England  would  not  notice.  A  hostile 
mob  demonstrated  in  front  of  the  embassy,  much  to  the 
alarm  of  the  Honourable  Charles  Mendril,  my  lord's 
second  son,  who  happened  to  be  there  from  Eton,  and 
who  did  not  count  personal  courage  among  his  accom- 
plishments. Illustrated  papers  came  out  with  full  front- 
page crocodiles,  the  Mendril  motto,  Gut  Gewissen  wiirzt 
den  Bissen,  issuing  from  their  capacious  jaws.  So  the 
Earl  had  to  resign.  Lord  Threpps  took  his  place;  and 
took  his  example  too,  being  careful,  above  all,  not  to 
number  Parish  Institutes  among  his  vices.  And  the 
incident  ended.  My  lord's  temper  remained.  Alas,  it 
claims  a  paragraph  all  to  itself.  Congenital,  as  is  the 
case  with  most  tempers,  it  had  been  fed  and  fattened  in 
a  foolish  home.  He  was  the  only  child  of  his  parents; 
and  they,  though  honest,  had  been  "  demned  silly. "  The 
late  Earl,  his  father,  rests  enshrined  among  the  pillars  of 
the  church.  The  good  old  soul  was  president  of  the 
House  of  Laymen  for  many  years  before  his  death.  The 
May  meetings  of  two  decades  ago  used  to  number  him 
among  their  most  punctual  attendants.  His  party  went 
to  him  for  bishops,  and  had  been  on  the  point  of  giving 
him  a  garter,  as  the  most  spiritual  article  within  its  gift. 
A  soft  and  foolish  mother  and  this  devoted  old  ecclesi- 
astic, between  them,  guided  the  lad  almost  to  his  seven- 
teenth birthday.  The  modified  discipline  which  Eton 
purveys  to  earls  was  denied  him.  Mendril  Court  clung 
to  him  year  by  year.  Sycophantic  tutors  (mainly  cu- 
rates out  of  a  job),  at  so  much  the  gross,  prepared  him 
for  "  Smalls,"  which,  by  the  way,  felled  him  three  times. 
Servants,  his  parents  chief  among  them,  ministered  to 
all  his  wants  and  fostered  his  passionate  temper  upon 
indulgence,  as  the  good  people  of  Perigord  fatten  the 
livers  of  geese.  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  is  always  ready 
to  continue  these  benevolent  beginnings.  Thackeray 
and  Tennyson  have  dealt  with  a  certain  class  of  don;  so 
the  present  humble  stumbler  must  not  attempt  to  touch 
it.  But  it  still  exists.  From  college,  my  lord  went 
degreeless  on  the  grand  tour.  This  was  in  the  autumn 
of  seventy.  And  inasmuch  as  his  bent  lay  towards  hair- 


240  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

breadth  adventures,  his  grand  tour  resolved  itself  into  a 
jaunt  to  capitulated  Sedan.  It  was  at  a  table  d'hdte  in  this 
city  that  he  met  his  fate,  a  certain  Mademoiselle  Henriette 
de  Murinac,  a  young  lady  who  even  in  those  far-off  days 
was  short  and  dark,  and  possessed  of  a  glistening  skin. 
Her  father,  Count  Gustave  de  Murinac,  one  among  the 
former  intimates  of  the  captured  Emperor,  had  retired  in 
disgrace  to  his  estates  in  Champagne  just  before  the  war. 
The  girl  and  her  mother  were  at  Sedan  to  tend  a  wounded 
brother.  The  poor  fellow  died  during  Lord  Mendril's 
stay,  and  the  manner  in  which  the  dark  young  lady's 
eyes  used  to  fill, — and  overflow  into  her  soup, — as  day  by 
day  the  loved  life  ebbed,  stirred  the  young  fellow's 
heart. 

For  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  my  lord  was  all 
ungovernable  temper  and  nothing  else.  Devoted  parents 
and  clerical  tutors  certainly  are  among  the  best  means 
heaven  has  yet  devised  for  inculcating  the  vices,  the 
fleshly  vices  above  all.  But  the  Earl's  youth  had  been 
singularly  stainless,  so  stainless  indeed  that  the  flesh 
remained  a  topic  which  he  ever  shrank  from  touching 
upon  with  his  children,  to  the  great  loss  of  the  Honour- 
able Charles.  And  as  a  consequence,  the  native  kindli- 
ness of  his  heart  remained  unimpaired.  He  was  full  of 
right  feeling  and  tender  pity,  when  his  overbearing 
temper  and  his  diffidence  had  not  got  the  better  of  him. 
Violent  enough  when  roused,  his  nature  contained  no 
touch  of  domineering.  The  young  lady  whose  dark 
eyes  used  to  fill  with  tears  at  the  Sedan  table  d'hdte, 
found  him  a  most  gentle  and  forbearing  husband.  (He 
certainly  was  an  indulgent  father,  as  this  history  hopes 
to  show.)  From  her  wedding-day  forward,  she  went  her 
own  gait  entirely;  and  had  you  asked  her  at  what  point 
of  time  her  husband's  love  had  yielded  place  to  their 
present  strained  relations,  she  would  have  found  some 
difficulty  in  giving  you  the  date.  The  thing  had  hap- 
pened so  silently. 

To  speak  the  bitter  truth,  the  young  man  did  a  bad 
stroke  of  business  for  himself  that  month  at  Sedan.  His 
Right  Reverend  father  told  him  as  much,  directly  the 
old  nobleman  set  eyes  upon  Lady  Mendril.  The  fond 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  241 

and  foolish  mother  bared  undreamt  of  strata  of  her  char- 
acter for  the  benefit  of  the  charming  Henriette.  No 
wonder  that  little  creature  always  hated  Tipton.  Be- 
fore she  had  been  there  a  week,  in  those  far-off  days  of 
honeymoon,  she  used  to  go  off  and  weep  in  not  too 
remote  corners,  until  her  hulking  Walter  (with  his  heavy 
mouth  and  his  beginnings  of  a  beard)  should  stumble 
over  her  and  gather  her  to  his  arms,  and  console  her  and 
splutter  out:  "Really,  mother!"  "Really,  father!"  in 
tones,  which  she  found  extremely  soothing. 

But  these  far-off  days  of  honeymoon  soon  went.  The 
old  Earl  went  with  them.  And  the  new  one,  year  by 
year,  discovered  his  foreign  countess  to  be  a  distinct 
mistake.  She,  too,  had  a  nice  temper  of  her  own,  and 
there  all  similarity  between  them  ended.  She  was  a 
Catholic,  but  her  Romanism  had  not  been  militant  at 
Sedan.  Her  early  days  at  Tipton  had  not  been  void  of 
offence.  Indeed  her  delicious  disdain  of  all  things  that 
concerned  the  heavens  above  proved  the  principal  cause 
of  friction  with  the  parents-in-law.  The  old  people 
hated  Papists,  but  they  abominated  pagans.  They 
soon  had  reason  to  suspect  that  their  dark-eyed  little 
connection  was  both.  But  my  lady  grew  more  assiduous 
as  the  years  advanced.  She  found  the  convent  chapel 
at  Sidmouth  such  an  excellent  weapon.  For  "what  is 
bred  in  the  bone, — "  as  all  the  world  knows.  Before  he 
became  a  father,  the  Earl  had  not  cared  a  twopenny 
expletive  what  communion  she  belonged  to.  Her  earlier 
impieties  had  only  made  him  laugh.  Even  now,  he 
recalled  with  a  smile  that  first  Christmas  day,  when  he 
and  the  old  people  had  returned  from  church  to  find  her 
devouring  "The  Mysteries  of  Marseilles,"  by  clever 
young  Zola.  With  the  advent  of  his  family,  his  feelings 
changed.  He  could  not  bear  to  see  the  long-robed 
Misery  from  Sidmouth  prowling  round  his  little  Muriel, 
his  little  daughter  whom  he  loved  as  he  loved  no  one 
else  in  the  whole  world.  The  child  was  not  yet  five 
before  he  commenced  to  suspect  attempts  at  proselytism. 
When  she  reached  eleven,  he  would  carry  her  into  his 
study  and  tell  her  fables  about  the  Scarlet  Woman. 
And  though,  like  the  late  Mrs.  Gamp,  "which  as  'ow  he 


242  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

never  mentioned  no  names,"  she  grew  up  with  the  hazy 
notion  that  the  lady  in  question,  and  the  Countess,  her 
mother,  were  one  and  indivisible.  To  get  back  to 
the  latter.  Her  diurnals,  and  rosaries,  and  breviaries, 
and  her  attendances  at  "Messe,"  grew  more  and  more 
offensive  as  her  married  life  progressed.  As  has  been 
already  mentioned,  they  were  potent  implements  in  the 
smouldering  hostility  which  soon  sprang  up  between  my 
lord  and  her,  just  as  they  were  among  its  most  effective 
causes. 

Others  naturally  existed.  She  was  more  French  than 
France  itself;  he  was  Tipton-St.-John  to  his  toe-nails. 
The  woman,  vivacious  and  voluble,  unstable  as  Reuben 
and  water,  dashing  like  a  child  from  every  subject, 
exchanging  tears  for  laughter  after  the  fashion  of  mon- 
keys, and  wearing  what  heart  she  had  upon  her  sleeve: 
the  man,  silent  and  reserved,  self-contained  to  the  point 
of  secretiveness.  The  course  resolved  on  in  some  gust 
of  passion,  he  stuck  to  with  all  the  persistence  of  a  steam- 
roller, and  a  tenth  its  noise.  The  difference  between  the 
two  characters  was  national  and  fundamental.  Her 
earliest  dislike  for  him  arose  from  her  antipathy  towards 
dull  and  sober  England.  He  soon  commenced  to  loathe 
France  on  her  account.  That  beautiful  land  grew  to  be 
a  fresh  bond  of  union.  My  lady  possessed  two  dwelling- 
places  therein.  One,  the  small  Villa  Henriette,  on  the 
Marne,  below  Meaux,  she  had  inherited  direct.  The 
other,  old  Gustave's  town  house  in  the  Avenue  des  Vil- 
liers,  she  had  purchased  from  the  executors  of  her  dead 
brother's  will,  thus  exercising  an  option  also  left  her  by 
her  father.  The  villa  at  Meaux  lodged  them  once  per- 
haps in  every  fifth  summer.  Her  town  house  she  had 
never  been  allowed  to  occupy  at  all.  Their  sixteen 
weeks'  fiasco  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore",  and  a  week  on 
her  honeymoon,  had  been  the  sum  of  her  sojourn  in  Paris 
during  twenty-six  years  of  married  life.  Berkeley  Square 
she  could  have  tolerated  as  an  inferior  substitute.  But 
she  merely  got  about  six  weeks  there  per  year,  while  the 
residue  of  her  twelve  months  was  massacred  in  that 
odious,  infamous  Tipton.  He  laid  no  compulsion  upon 
her.  She  was  free  to  live  in  Paris  from  year's  end  to 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  243 

year's   end — alone.     Her   nature,   however,    was   of  a 
clinging  kind. 

And  so  the  breach  had  widened  through  their  mar- 
ried life.  And  to-day,  when  the  whirligig  of  time  had 
brought  men  round  to  a  new  Napoleon,  and  Madame  (as 
befitted  an  ardent  Imperialist)  desired  to  resurrect  the 
glories  of  her  mansion,  it  was  very  wide  indeed.  The 
worthy  couple  now  hardly  exchanged  half  a  dozen  words 
per  week.  They  met  at  meals, — a  sort  of  "water 
truce,"  if  one  may  borrow  from  the  wizard  of  the  jungle, 
— and  they  separated.  They  faced  one  another  from 
either  end  of  their  long  table,  at  Tipton  or  Meaux,  or  in 
Berkeley  Square,  and  talked  to  their  guests  and  their 
children,  and  at  one  another.  My  lord  would  watch  his 
wife,  wondering  how  he  had  come  to  marry  her.  She 
never  looked  at  him.  But  when  so  be  he  annoyed  her 
more  than  usual,  she  would  talk  gingerly  about  the  Paris 
embassy  and  the  Tipton  Institute,  and  her  devotions, 
and  Father  Kahn.  And  once  a  month,  like  clockwork, 
she  would  bewail  her  hateful  English  life  and  her  empty 
houses. 

Their  children,  alas,  drew  them  no  closer.  Our  poor 
friend  gathered  his  daughter  to  his  heart,  and  left  the 
boys  to  the  Countess.  Not  that  he  neglected  the  latter. 
He  was  a  just  man,  and  an  affectionate  father.  Walter, 
his  heir,  the  young  gentleman  who  had  administered  such 
disciplinary  taps  to  our  Walter,  before  the  latter  had  shed 
his  cocoon,  found  his  lordship  everything  that  filial  exi- 
gencies can  desire.  Even  the  Honourable  Charles,  that  un- 
appetizing young  patrician,  never  received  cause  to  com- 
plain. Heaven  knows,  he  was  blotchy  and  sallow  and 
squat  enough  to  disgust  the  most  indulgent  parent. 

But  the  Earl  possessed  but  one  daughter,  and  she  was 
his  all  in  all.  From  earliest  times  they  had  been  insepa- 
rable. Mendril  Court,  accursed  of  Madame  and  the 
Honourable  Charles,  was  Mecca  to  them.  Till  Muriel 
reached  eighteen,  neither  of  them  was  ever  happy  out 
of  it.  And,  the  chronicler  regrets  to  say,  they  liked  it 
best  when  the  boys  were  absent  at  school  or  college,  and 
when  Madame  kept  sulkily  to  her  room  save  for  an  occa- 
sional sabbatical  maraud  to  the  convent  chapel. 


244  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

They  knew  the  whole  country-side,  those  two,  from 
the  heights  whence  you  can  catch  the  first  faint 
glimpse  of  Exeter  to  the  red  cliffs  that  keep  Seaton  from 
Salcombe  Regis.  They  loved  April  best, — April  when  the 
evenings  lengthened  and  Madame  sighed  most  for  Paris. 
They  used  to  take  their  horses  to  the  water's  edge,  and 
watch  the  promise  of  spring  twilight  brightening  the 
foam,  and  tempt  the  waves  with  shouts  of  laughter, — 
the  waves  which  still  held  a  touch  of  winter  in  them. 
And  then,  as  the  shadows  settled,  they  would  race  home, 
Muriel  always  leading,  and  with  flying  hair.  And  some- 
times her  father  would  call  to  her,  "This  is  better  than 
Paris,  little  one?  " 

"And  Meaux  too,"  she  would  laugh  back,  "and  that 
trickling  Marne!  " 

So  the  little  creature,  with  her  wide  grey  eyes  and 
her  flying  hair,  was  banded  with  her  father  into  a  sort  of 
dual  alliance.  And  thus  she  came  to  rule  the  household. 
Not  dumb  and  saturnine  like  him,  she  possessed  his 
silent  weight  behind  her,  and  her  own  indomitable  little 
will.  What  he  wanted,  she  wanted,  and  said  so;  and 
what  she  said  she  wanted,  she  generally  got.  Madame, 
truth  so  tell,  lived  somewhat  in  awe  of  her.  She  seemed 
so  different  from  Henriette's  notions  of  what  a  young 
girl  should  be.  Even  at  thirteen  the  little  minx  dis- 
played twists  in  her  "foolish  character"  incomprehen- 
sible to  my  lady.  And  she  turned  them  into  overt 
action,  too,  whenever  she  and  her  mother  came  to  blows. 
She  never  asked  sympathy  or  advice.  She  made  no 
attempt  to  conceal  her  scorn  for  the  priests  and  devout 
women  whom  the  Countess  sometimes  collected  round 
her.  No,  the  absurd  child  remained  ever  the  same  wild 
thing  with  wide  eyes  and  flying  hair  and  bloodless  skin; 
and,  unlike  most  wild  things,  kept  some  solid  character 
not  very  deep  below  the  surface,  the  metallic  feel  of  which 
my  lady  did  not  like  at  all.  Above  all,  the  child  had 
secrets  with  her  father:  the  two  imbeciles  never  being 
happy  out  of  one  another's  presence. 

"  Would  you  believe  it,"  Madame  wrote  on  one  occa- 
sion, now  several  years  old,  to  her  confidante  Madame 
Verre,  "would  you  believe  it,  dear  Louise,  I  found 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  245 

him  last  Saturday  loafing  about  outside  her  schoolroom, 
waiting  for  Mademoiselle — who  is  most  satisfactory, 
though  she  joins  me  in  hating  the  place — to  set  her  free. 
You  can  imagine  I  promptly  went  in  and  ordered  that  the 
little  imp  should  be  detained  an  hour  after  her  usual 
time.  No  sooner  had  I  turned  my  back,  than  he  went  in 
and  carried  her  off  then  and  there.  And  I  did  not  see 
either  of  them  again  until  seven  that  same  evening  (April, 
recollect,  dear  Louise,  and  bitterly  cold),  when  they  came 
clattering  up  the  drive  like  a  couple  of  maniacs.  Her 
new  serge  was  saturated  with  salt-water,  and  the  little 
wretch  wanted  to  sit  down  to  dinner  just  as  she  was. 
Oh,  dear  Louise,  these  barbarians!  You  won't  tell  me 
Verre  equals  my  wretch."  Neither  the  Honourable 
Charles  nor  his  elder  brother  were  very  satisfactory  sub- 
stitutes for  a  kempt  and  clinging  daughter.  The  latter 
young  nobleman  has  already  been  sufficiently  described. 
He  resembled  his  mother  too  much  not  to  have  a  shallow 
heart.  Never  aught  but  gentle  and  dutiful  towards  his 
parents,  neither  could  cherish  any  illusions  as  to  his  real 
nature.  A  thousand  little  unconscious  acts  daily  showed 
it  up  beyond  dispute.  Kind  words  slipped  from  his 
tongue  like  the  best  lubricant  invented;  unchangeable 
kindness  shone  from  his  dark  eyes  (except,  of  course, 
when  he  had  to  deal  with  cads);  but  no  one  had  ever 
known  him  to  go  a  half-inch  out  of  his  way  to  oblige  any 
living  soul.  He  liked  Muriel  fairly;  Charles  he  thought 
of  as  little  as  possible.  Sometimes  the  two  discussed 
their  parents,  when  the  young  lord  would  invariably 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  both  had  many  good  quali- 
ties. And  also,  that  if  each  only  saw  the  evil  in  the 
other,  it  was  not  for  their  seed  to  forget  their  virtues. 
His  brother  generally  differed. 

For  the  Honourable  Charles  had  a  profession  that 
required  nursing;  he  also  had  a  coming  career.  So  he 
could  not  possibly  be  gentle  or  amiable  or  too  respectful. 
Possessing  deeper  feelings  than  his  brother,  he  had,  un- 
fortunately, up  to  the  present,  been  compelled  to  expend 
them  in  dislikes  and  hatreds  and  discontents.  It  took 
little  indeed  to  drive  him  into  fits  of  sullen  anger  that 
endured  goodly  periods.  But  then,  it  is  the  privilege  of 


246  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

men  with  exigent  professions  and  possible  careers  not  to 
have  parents  nor  sisters  nor  brothers — but  only  them- 
selves in  all  the  wide,  wide  world.  They  don't  have 
any  friends,  that  is  quite  certain. 

In  public  the  Countess  always  took  care  to  laud  her 
children  to  the  skies.  It  was  one  of  her  most  indecent 
characteristics,  in  her  husband's  view.  Privately,  how- 
ever, she  could  not  help  lamenting  the  fact  that  her  sec- 
ond boy  showed — to  those  who  did  not  know  his  beauti- 
ful nature,  and  judged  by  externals — blotchy  and  sallow 
and  squat,  with  a  bull-neck  and  a  libidinous  chin.  Why 
this  should  be  so,  she  could  not  tell.  Earl  Walter  was 
a  fine  enough  man,  while  the  other  three  members  of 
the  family  were  distinctly  handsome.  She  feared  his 
plain  face  might  stand  in  the  dear  boy's  way.  The  dear 
boy  himself  had  no  such  anxiety.  The  only  thing  which 
seemed  likely  to  do  that,  in  his  opinion,  was  his  foolish, 
blundering  father.  For  the  Honourable  Charles,  though 
about  to  enter  the  diplomatic  service,  had  destined  him- 
self ultimately  for  the  Treasury  Bench.  He  deemed 
himself  cut  out  for  the  House  of  Commons.  But  the 
Honiton  division  of  the  county,  where  the  Mendril  influ- 
ence lay  strong,  was  to  go  to  Walter.  Again,  if  his  father 
could  only  become  Viceroy!  The  Honourable  Charles 
would  then  be  ris  private  secretary,  and  spring  into 
public  life  that  way.  But  his  father  had  proved  himself 
a  hopeless  failure;  accordingly,  he  disliked  him  very 
much.  He,  however,  talked  to  him  sometimes  about  his 
great  ambitions. 

"  Sir,"  he  would  say,  "the  present  time  is  the  rule  of 
lieutenants.  We  have  Harcourt  and  Salisbury  in  Eng- 
land, and  Crispi  in  Italy,  and — and — " 

Or,  again: 

"Sir,  I  wonder  how  I  shall  look  on  paper.  Nowa- 
days, character-sketches  of  public  men  are  carried  to 
absurd  lengths.  Become  an  Under-Secretary  of  State, 
and  you  will  be  able  to  get  any  number  of  hysterical 
journalists  to  analyze  your  inside,  as  though  you  were 
Pitt  or  Hamlet,  or  the  latest  woman  who  did  something 
she  ought  not  to  have  done.  I  wonder  how  I  shall  look 
on  paper,  sir." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  247 

Or,  again: 

"Sir,  the  great  secret  of  Mr.  Rodenham's  success 
lies  in  the  fact  that  he  used  to  work  nineteen  hours  a 
day  when  he  had  nothing  to  do.  There  is  no  merit  in 
the  Attorney-General  always  being  busy.  There  is 
great  merit  in  the  briefless  barrister.  The  latter  will 
reach  the  woolsack  first,  if  you  will  pardon  a  trope  from 
common  things.  I,  sir,  work  twenty-two  hours  out  of 
the  twenty-four." 

And  his  father  would  invariably  answer: 

1 '  Charles,  do  n't  be  a  fool. ' ' 

Madame's  own  private  relations  brought  hardly  more 
comfort.  Of  old  Gustave's  hordes,  some  were  dead, 
like  poor  Paul  (whom  she  never  thought  of  without 
tears),  and  all  save  one  were  scattered.  Louis  de  Muri- 
nac,  the  youngest,  alone  remained  in  the  old  home  at 
Avize  among  the  vines.  He  had  married  a  Swiss  woman 
from  Lausanne,  and  she  and  he  and  their  two  children, 
Paul  and  Yvonne,  lived  a  placid,  drowsy  sort  of  life  in 
the  grim  old  chateau.  Louis  himself  was  a  confirmed 
idler.  He  spent  his  day  walking  to  a  neighbouring  rail- 
way station  for  the  Paris  papers,  and  pottering  among 
his  books.  These  were  very  numerous,  and  all  dealt  with 
the  times  and  life  of  Louis  XIV.  De  Murinac  had  col- 
lected them  at  great  expense,  during  the  last  seventeen 
years  or  so,  to  help  him  carry  out  the  purpose,  the  grand 
purpose,  of  his  life.  This  was  nothing  less  than  a  com- 
pendious history  of  that  great  monarch.  Up  to  the 
present,  however,  he  had  only  written  the  preface  and  a 
skeleton  index.  The  authorities  were  so  terrible.  One 
book  of  reference  led  to  a  thousand  more.  By  the  time 
the  thousandth  had  been  purchased  and  read,  the  first 
was  altogether  forgotten.  Then  there  were  the  Paris 
papers.  What  these  had  in  common  with  Louis  XIV,  it 
took  a  man  of  De  Murinac's  ingenuity  to  tell.  But  he 
went  along,  quite  satisfied  that  no  one  can  be  an  historian 
unless  he  keeps  up  with  current  topics.  So  he  had  four 
of  the  leading  journals  daily,  and  worked  diligently 
through  them,  hardly  missing  an  advertisement,  and 
taking  copious  notes.  His  method  left  nothing  to  be 
desired:  he  had  reached  his  forty-second  note-book. 


248  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

But  seeing  that  the  papers  did  not  get  to  Avize  till  close 
on  noon,  and  that  the  station  was  four  miles  from  the 
chateau ;  and  seeing  further,  that  a  man  who  aspires  to 
be  an  historian  must  take  exercise  and  regular  meals,  it 
always  came  about  that  he  was  never  ready  to  tackle  his 
namesake  till  five  of  an  afternoon.  He  would  then  lock 
himself  in  his  library,  and  proceed  to  tackle  him.  But, 
having  added  another  word  to  the  skeleton  index,  he 
always  concluded  that  he  owed  it  to  his  reputation,  as 
well  as  to  his  readers,  not  to  write  any  more  so  late. 
Accordingly,  he  salved  his  conscience  by  altering  the 
current  scheme  to  account  for  another  wasted  day. 

Oh,  those  schemes!  On  paper  he  parcelled  out  day 
and  night  with  scrupulous  exactitude.  Such  had  been 
his  habit  from  earliest  infancy.  They  ran  something 
after  this  wise:  "  Scheme  of  life,  begun  on  such  and  such 
a  day  of  such  a  year,  and  kept  down  to  the  commence- 
ment of  my  last  mortal  illness."  Then  the  document 
proceeded  to  enact  minute  regulations  for  every  depart- 
ment of  human  doings,  sleep  included. 

So  each  day  at  four  he  altered  the  date,  and  when 
the  programme  became  too  illegible  he  wrote  a  new  one. 
This  generally  took  about  an  hour.  Which  labour  done, 
he  would  settle  down  to  a  cosy  evening  among  the  more 
scandalous  chronicles  of  his  period.  They  had  to  be 
read  sometime;  hence  he  preferred  to  get  them  through 
and  docketted  before  his  new  scheme  came  into  opera- 
tion. ' 

His  boy  Paul,  now  approaching  his  thirteenth  year, 
was  a  different  stamp  of  man  altogether;  but  Madame 
never  did  care  for  children.  Besides,  she  only  saw  her 
brother  and  her  brother's  family  about  once  in  four 
years.  He  could  never  be  got  to  Tipton. 

But  we  have  left  Meaux  and  our  hero  long  enough. 
The  night  he  first  set  eyes  upon  this  interesting  family 
(at  Jervis's  Restaurant,  it  may  be  remembered),  the 
Countess  had  just  scored  a  notable  victory.  She  had 
prevailed  upon  her  husband  to  pass  the  summer  at 
Meaux.  The  point  was  won  only  after  twelve  days' 
fighting  and  three  years'  absence.  She  had  fought  it 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  249 

more  on  Charles's  account  than  her  own;  the  dear  boy 
proposing  to  join  the  Paris  embassy  after  September. 

Curiously  enough,  the  Framlinghams  arrived  at  their 
charming  country  seat  on  the  identical  day  in  late  July 
that  Napoleon  reached  his.  The  troop  of  them,  includ- 
ing Louis  de  Murinac  and  Count  Nicholas  Fersen  (who 
came  uninvited),  actually  left  Paris  two  trains  in  front 
of  his  Majesty.  Muriel  had  not  even  assisted  at  the 
unpacking  of  her  trunks,  when  she  fell  in  with  him  for 
the  first  time  across  the  river. 

Dinner  that  night  at  the  Villa  Henriette  partook  of 
the  nature  of  a  family  reunion.  Louis  de  Murinac  was 
there,  and  he  and  his  sister  had  not  met  for  over  four 
years.  Fersen  was  there,  and  he  and  Muriel  had  not 
met  for  over  eight  weeks.  He  had  n't  been  asked.  That 
made  no  difference;  he  had  come  to  stop  the  night. 

The  history  of  this  young  attache's  devotion  to  Lord 
Framlingham's  daughter  is  simplicity  itself.  Napoleon 
had  not  misread  his  secret  that  night  at  Jervis's.  Had 
our  hero  been  present  at  this  cheerful  table,  he  would 
have  seen  that  every  one  else  read  it  too.  Happily  for 
him,  the  monarch  was  moaning  and  groaning  in  his  own 
little  villa,  half  a  mile  off. 

The  history  of  the  boy's  intimacy  with  the  Framling- 
ham  family  is  less  straightforward,  and  justifies,  perhaps, 
a  few  words'  detailed  explanation.  It  originated  in  a 
letter  of  introduction.  Some  six  years  back,  the  Earl 
had  taken  advantage  of  a  visit  to  Berlin  to  get  a  month 
in  St.  Petersburg.  The  month  in  St.  Petersburg  tempted 
him  on  to  Moscow.  And  from  Moscow  he  had  gone  to 
shoot  over  the  domain  of  the  widowed  Baroness  Fersen, 
Nicholas's  mother.  The  latter,  then  a  lad  of  sixteen, 
had  been  my  lord's  constant  companion  in  their  daily 
excursions.  For  some  reason  he  would  single  out  this 
taciturn  Englishman  from  the  rest  of  the  sportsmen — 
usually  his  uncles  and  cousins,  of  which  he  had  a  good 
many — and  stick  to  him  like  a  limpet  through  the  live- 
long day.  Why,  it  is  difficult  to  say.  There  only  ex- 
isted one  child  for  whom  the  Earl  had  any  very  special 
attractions,  and  she  was  down  with  German  measles  over 
in  the  sea-spider's  lair.  Possibly  the  boy  had  learnt 


250  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

that  his  guest  was  to  be  the  next  Indian  viceroy,  and 
therefore  knew  also  that  they  would  meet  again.  Any- 
how, he  stuck  to  him,  and  polished  his  French  on  him, 
and  now  and  then  gave  him  a  little  Russian,  which  the 
Englishman  put  by  for  future  use.  And  the  boy  showed 
him  where  the  capercailzie  nested  among  the  rotting 
autumn  leaves.  And  his  manifest  devotion  flattered  my 
lord,  as  devotion  flatters  any  one,  even  his  Beatitude 
the  Grand  Llhama,  provided  he  gets  any.  And  it  minded 
the  Earl  that  his  usual  companion  was  about  the  same 
age  as  this  sturdy  youth  who  trudged  at  his  side,  and 
that  she  also  had  fearless  eyes  of  grey.  And  when,  some- 
times, the  two  of  them  had  got  deep  into  the  forest,  some 
way  from  the  uncles  and  cousins, — whose  host  Nicholas 
was, — the  Earl  would  tell  him  about  his  daughter  over  in 
England,  which  was  a  very  great  mark  of  confidence 
indeed.  So  the  fortnight  ended,  and  Framlingham  hied 
him  back  to  the  German  measles,  carrying  the  very  live- 
liest recollections  of  his  young  companion.  Two  years 
later  Nicholas  paid  a  return  visit  to  Tipton.  The  friend- 
ship thus  started  promised  to  endure. 

Henriette  had  found  him  charming  from  the  very  com- 
mencement. She  ventured  to  write  as  much  to  the  dear 
Baroness,  his  mother,  who  answered  in  faultless  French, 
and  violet  ink.  Then  came  the  boy's  appointment  to 
his  Paris  embassy,  about  twelve  months  prior  to  the  coup 
d'  etat.  That  brought  him  well  within  the  lie  of  Devon- 
shire. The  Havre-Southampton  route  proved  a  very 
good  friend.  And  every  one  commenced  to  know  why 
he  was  so  fond  of  Tipton-St.-John,  and  she  as  much  as 
anybody.  And  he  knew  that  she  knew  it;  though  he 
had  never  yet  dared  speak  to  her  about  his  love. 

He  had  loved  her  from  the  hour  of  their  earliest  meet- 
ing, on  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit.  He  remem- 
bered the  incident  well.  She  was  seventeen  at  the  time; 
he  a  year  her  senior.  She  had  worn  the  serge  which  she 
had  saturated  on  a  former  occasion,  and  her  face  had 
borne  the  tiniest  trace  of  colour;  for  she  had  ridden  with 
her  father  to  the  lodge  gate  to  welcome  the  young  Rus- 
sian upon  their  threshold. 

From  that  first  meeting  forward,  then,  he  loved  her. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  251 

And  his  love  grew  with  every  sight.  His  mother  was  driven 
permanently  to  an  antiquated  photograph  whenever  she 
wanted  to  remind  herself  of  his  comely  features.  The 
forests  near  Moscow — Dmitroff  was  the  name  of  his 
native  place — knew  him  no  more.  Prehlen,  his  chief, 
found  him  most  neglectful.  But  Prehlen  did  not  mind; 
his  methods  differed  from  those  employed  in  neighbour- 
ing embassies. 

This  was  Muriel's  first  visit  to  France  since  his  ap- 
pointment. No  wonder  he  attached  himself  to  her 
train  from  the  moment  she  alighted  at  the  Terminus 
Hotel,  and  dogged  her  down  to  Meaux  without  an  invi- 
tation. 

My  lord's  feelings  in  the  matter  can  be  summed  up 
in  wellnigh  a  single  sentence;  so  can  my  lady's.  He 
did  not  want  his  daughter  to  marry  yet  a  while.  And — 
and  one  cannot  deny  it,  Russia  is  a  long  way  off.  But 
he  never  lost  his  first  affection  for  the  boy.  Rather  it 
strengthened  as  the  years  went  on.  For  he  found  him 
honest  and  fearless  and  manly.  Accordingly,  he  had  no 
objection,  and  meant  to  leave  the  choice  entirely  to  her. 
My  lady,  for  her  part,  felt  that  with  her  face  and  parent- 
age the  girl  might  hope  to  do  a  good  deal  better.  But 
then,  she  was  such  an  impudent  little  minx,  that  really 
Henriette  hardly  cared  what  she  did.  Meanwhile,  Nicho- 
las still  adored  in  silence,  and  they  all  sat  at  the  cheer- 
ful dinner,  which  partook  of  the  nature  of  a  family  re- 
union. For  it  also  included  Walter,  gathered  in  from 
the  Faubourg  St.  Honore,  where — as  Madame  informed 
"dear  Louise" — the  young  monkey  had  been  behaving 
rather  indiscreetly  with  that  contemptible  Lady  Threpps. 
And  it  numbered  last,  but  not  least,  the  Honourable 
Charles,  who  had  turned  up  that  morning  from  a  solitary 
ramble  among  the  Jura  "to  collect  ideas." 

With  the  exception  of  Fersen,  they  were  all  very 
lively.  Even  my  lord  unbent.  He  and  his  Countess  ex- 
changed one  or  two  civil  words.  Louis,  soft,  amiable 
fellow  that  he  was,  gave  his  home  news  with  charming 
desultoriness.  He  had  silken  chestnut  hair  and  a  pointed 
beard  and  regular  features,  but  a  fatal  weakness  lingered 
over  all  and  negatived  those  advantages.  He  told  his 


252  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

sister  what  a  charming  child  Yvonne  had  grown,  and  all 
about  the  skeleton  index;  and  what  a  terrible  little  Impe- 
rialist he  was  rearing  in  Paul.  The  child's  present  excite- 
ment upset  the  whole  chateau.  He  positively  wanted  to 
be  enrolled  in  the  Emperor's  body-guard  there  and  then, 
laughed  Louis.  And  that  sent  Henriette  off  musing  on 
dear  old  days,  and  the  Avenue  des  Villiers. 

"  I  notice,  dear  Louis, "  said  she,  "a  certain  Count 
de  Morin  who  appears  to  have  had  a  considerable  share 
in  the  late  glorious  restoration." 

"I  also  observe  the  name;  and  may  add  that  I  have 
made  a  note  of  it  for  my  history,"  Louis  replied.  "You 
refer  to  the  Grand  Chamberlain?  " 

"I  wonder  whether  he  can  be  any  relation  to  our  old 
Count?  " 

"  I  thought  of  that. " 

' '  What  a  dear,  kind  man  he  was, ' '  the  sister  continued, 
her  eyes  softening.  "  Do  you  recollect  how  we  used  to 
take  complete  possession  of  his  apartment  and  declare  it 
in  a  state  of  siege?  Poor  Paul — always  the  ringleader; 
hours  do  I  sit  thinking  of  those  dead  days.  How  the 
Count  loved  our  darling." 

"  Oh,  I  must  have  forgotten.  I  was  too  young  to  re- 
member the  things  you  mention." 

"Nonsense,"  Henriette  rejoined  tartly;  "you  were 
past  fourteen  when  we  left  Paris.  Curious,  we  should 
none  of  us  ever  have  set  eyes  on  the  dear  Count  since 
that  feverish  day.  He  must  be  dead  this  many  a  year." 

"I  expect  so,"  Louis  said  in  comforting  tones. 

"  How  does  my  little  girl  like  Meaux,  now  that  she  "s 
got  here?  "  asked  my  lord.  The  tactless  creature  replied, 
"  Not  very  much, "  adding  that  she  pined  for  the  sea. 
Her  candour  broke  the  first  beginnings  of  harmony  at 
that  festive  board.  The  Countess  bridled  at  once. 

"Naturally,"  she  exclaimed,  fixing  Louis's  blonde 
beard  with  glittering  eyes,  "I  might  have  expected  that 
Muriel  would  grudge  me  my  visit  to  my  old  home  "  (which 
latter  substantive  was  poetic  license).  "  Many  weary 
months  do  I  have  to  await  her  pleasure  in  that  soaking 
Tipton;  but  my  turn,  it  seems,  never  comes." 

"Oh,  mother — " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  253 

"It  is  unnecessary,"  Henriette  pursued,  her  orbs  still 
fixed  on  Louis,  "it  is  quite  unnecessary  to  expostulate. 
Deeds,  not  words,  are  what  I  judge  by.  Since  July  the 
first,  of  last  year,  I  have  spent  three  weeks  in  Cannes, 
six  weeks  in  London,  and  the  rest  of  the  twelve  months 
in  that  living  tomb.  My  dearest  Charles,  how  did  you 
enjoy  the  Jura?  Sweet  boy,  you  have  not  told  me  one 
word  of  yourself." 

"  I  'm  all  right,"  grumbled  the  favourite.  And  he 
turned  at  once  to  Count  Fersen,  who  was  immersed  in 
the  sayings  and  doings  of  his  beloved. 

"  Nicholas,  what  does  your  chief  think  of  affairs?  " 

The  Russian  did  not  trouble  to  look  round;  he  hated 
the  Honourable  Charles.  "  I  do  not  know,"  he  snapped 
out. 

"I  think  dear  Walter's  experience  was  the  most  ex- 
traordinary," broke  in  Madame.  "Dearest,  give  your 
uncle  your  adventures  with  his  Majesty." 

"Oh  please,  mother,"  pleaded  the  charming  young 
fellow,  "  please  spare  me  another  recital.  I  have  told  the 
story  about  nine  hundred  times  already." 

So  Madame  told  it  for  him.  How  he  had  been  up  at 
Oxford  with  this  strange  imperial  foundling.  How  the  two 
of  them  had  travelled  to  Paris  in  the  same  compartment, 
that  memorable  night  in  June  when  Walter  Sadler  was 
really  on  his  way  to  win  his  throne.  How  they  had  met 
frequently  during  the  few  weeks  prior  to  the  coup  d'etat; 
and  how,  on  one  occasion,  dear  Walter  had  been  able  to 
perform  a  trifling  service  for  his  namesake  in  connection 
with  the  dance  at  the  British  embassy.  She  narrated 
these  incidents  just  as  our  hero  would  have  had  them 
narrated,  had  he  been  present;  and  the  gentle  young 
lord  listened  and  did  not  even  smile.  Count  Fersen 
heard  never  a  word. 

Madame  wound  up. 

"  Another  coincidence.  Our  dear  Louise  Verre  and 
her  husband  also  became  very  intimate  with  this  Walter 
Sadler.  His  Majesty  remembers  Walter  Sadler's  friends. 
Verre,  as  you  know,  is  almost  the  sole  new  minister; 
and  Louise  writes  me  he  is  soon  to  be  Premier.  Indeed, 
I  hear  on  all  sides  the  young  fellow  is  really  charming. 


254  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Dear  Charles,  your  brother's  good  luck  will  help  you 
immensely. " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  grumbled  the  saffron-coloured 
lad. 

"This  week's  L' Ilustratton,"  Madame  rattled  on, 
"contains  a  portrait  of  him.  Have  you  seen  it?  Walter 
says  that  it  is  a  good  likeness." 

Louis  had  not  seen  it,  so  his  sister  continued: 

"  I  read  in  the  papers  that  he  means  to  come  down  to 
the  Villa  Yvonne  this  summer.  He  will  find  it  sadly  out 
of  repair;  the  President  never  even  knew  of  its  existence. 
Oh,  dear,  they  will  be  gay  in  Paris  this  winter!  Louis, 
you  may  buy  my  house — "  Her  husband  was  gazing  so 
benignantly  at  the  chandelier  that  she  kept  the  remainder 
of  her  sentence  over  for  future  use. 

"Well,  my  boy,"  the  latter  said  at  that  moment, 
breaking  his  long  silence,  "has  the  Jura  helped  you  to 
make  up  your  mind?  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  Charles  replied.  "I  shall  accept,  and  go 
in  October." 

"  Like  a  wise  fellow.  Let  me  tell  you,  you  would  not 
get  many  men  to  work  a  thing  in  your  favour  as  Lord 
Threpps  offers  to  do." 

"  I  know,  sir."  But  this  was  the  pattern  of  the  duti- 
ful lad's  mind,  while  he  was  giving  such  gentle  acqui- 
escence: 

"The  old  muff  will  miss  this  vacancy  just  as  he  did 
the  others.  We  shall  never  get  to  India.  A  second-sec- 
retaryship is  better  than  no  bread.  That  pig,  Fersen, 
seems  to  thrive  on  his.  He  and  Muriel  are  about  on  a 
par.  I  wish  to  heaven  he  'd  take  her  off  to  Moscow, 
married  or  single.  I  should  be  well  rid  of  them.  The 
fool  looks  business  to-night."  And,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  Honourable  Charles,  with  an  acumen  befitting  a 
coming  premier,  had  smashed  down  the  right  nail.  The 
young  Russian  not  only  looked  business:  he  meant  it. 
The  late  two  months  of  absence  had  convinced  him  that 
he  really  could  not  get  on  without  her  any  more.  So 
he  had  spent  weeks  writing  reams  to  his  mother.  The 
Baroness  preferred  a  daughter-in-law  in  Dmitroff  to  her 
son  always  in  Devonshire.  She  sent  back  any  number 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  255 

of  motherly  blessings,  all  in  faultless  French,  and  violet 
ink.  The  young  fellow  had  taken  his  final  resolve  that 
very  night  he  and  Walter  Sadler  had  made  one  another 
so  angry.  (Our  hero  probably  did  not  know  how  near 
he  had  come  to  having  his  nose  whacked  on  that  inter- 
esting occasion.)  Nicholas  had  confided  in  Lord  Men- 
dril;  and  they  had  decided  that  the  first  evening  at  the 
Villa  Henriette  would  be  a  fitting  opportunity.  That 
was  the  reason  for  the  former's  unrequested  presence. 

The  family  took  their  coffee  on  the  lawn  that  night, 
and  the  good-natured  Walter  gave  his  prospective 
brother-in-law  a  lift.  The  latter  was  standing  disconso- 
lately in  the  centre  of  the  croquet-pitch,  watching  — 
well,  we  need  not  say  what.  Henriette  and  her  brother 
had  settled  to  rest  in  easy-chairs  underneath  a  pear  tree; 
while  the  Earl  and  the  Honourable  Charles  were  slowly 
pacing  the  gravel  walk  behind  them.  Muriel  had  just 
dropped  her  father's  arm:  she  was  now  standing  by 
Madame's  chair,  running  through  the  latest  L1  Illustration. 
Its  front  page  seemed  to  amuse  her  very  much. 

Mendril  approached  the  unhappy  young  Russian  and 
nudged  his  arm. 

"Nicholas,"  he  said,  "you  get  more  timid  and  fool- 
ish every  day.  Pluck  up  your  courage,  man:  she  can't 
eat  you.  Muriel,  put  away  that  little  yellow  image — " 
he  meant  the  presentment  of  his  Majesty — "and  come 
with  us.  We  are  going  down  to  the  river." 

So  Muriel  put  Napoleon  away,  and  joined  her  brother. 
And  the  worldly  fellow  slipped  off  to  write  some  letters 
before  they  had  gone  a  hundred  yards;  and  the  two 
survivors  continued  their  course  alone,  and  one  was 
smiling. 

He  had  been  with  her  like  this  half  a  hundred 
times  during  the  three  and  three  quarter  years  of  their 
acquaintance  and  his  love,  and  he  had  never  been  dumb 
before.  It  was  most  annoying,  just  as  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  speak  his  heart.  They  reached  the  water's 
edge  in  silence:  they  struck  it  almost  opposite  the  spot 
where  she  and  the  little  unknown  had  had  their  meeting, 
less  than  two  hours  back. 

"Look!"  said  she,   pointing  across  the  river,  "you 


256  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

can  see  the  lights  of  the  Villa  Yvonne.  Perhaps  the 
Emperor  is  already  there,"  and  she  laughed. 

"I  hope  not,"  he  muttered;   "the  little  beast." 

She  laughed  again.  "Nicholas,  you  do  not  seem  to 
like  his  Majesty." 

"  I  met  him  when  he  was  plain  Monsieur  Sadler." 

"Well?" 

"  He  did  not  strike  me  as  a  nice  fellow  in  those  days. " 

"I  do  not  agree  with  you."  It  was  her  way  to  tease 
him;  he  merely  said:  "His  portraits  give  you  no  proper 
idea." 

"But  I  have — "and  she  laughed  yet  once  more. 
"Walter  says  the  one  in  this  week's  L"  Illustration  is  fairly 
faithful." 

"  May  be."  And  Nicholas's  brain  reverted  to  his  own 
business. 

The  stone  bridge  tempted  them  across  into  the  Empe- 
ror's grounds.  They  ascended  the  sloping  path  towards 
the  villa  lights;  and  even  came  near  enough  to  descry  a 
dumpy  little  figure  upon  the  first-floor  balcony,  whom 
both  were  at  no  pains  to  recognize. 

"Muriel,"  the  young  man  flung  out,  at  length.  "I 
heard  from  my  mother  yesterday." 

"  Did  you,  Nicholas?  Surely  there  is  nothing  wonder- 
ful in  that?" 

"But  she  spoke  about  you." 

"And  that  is  not  wonderful,  either,"  said  the  girl. 
He  always  loved  her  ten  times  more  for  these  little 
tokens  of  conscious  sovereignty  she  was  accustomed  to 
indulge  in  from  time  to  time.  "  She  knows  what  a  great 
goose  her  boy  is.  Father  and  I  are  going  straight  to 
Dmitroff  directly  we  get  into  Russia.  We  have  mapped 
out  our  tour.  Moscow  and  your  mother  to  begin  with, 
then  Nijni-Novgorod,  and  a  full  month  in  St.  Petersburg 
to  end  up.  You  are  going  to  be  with  us  the  whole  time. 
You  shall  interpret  for  us  and  do  our  shopping.  And 
perhaps,  if  we  have  the  chance,  we  will  spend  a  week  in 
those  vast  forests  of  yours,  where  you  and  father  seemed 
to  have  struck  up  your  friendship.  "  Did  I  ever  tell 
you" — she  had,  about  a  hundred  times — "what  an 
impression  you  made  on  him  the  first  time  you  met?  For 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  257 

months  after,  he  never  tired  of  saying  what  a  manly  crea- 
ture you  were,  how  independent  and  brave,  and  yet  how 
gentle.  He  quite  horrified  the  boys  by  wishing  that  they 
had  had  a  little  more  of  you  in  them.  He  did  not  know 
what  a  great  goose  you  were  in  reality.  But  I  know; 
don't  I,  Nicholas?" 

Nicholas's  eyes  were  glistening. 

"Won't  you  and  your  father  come  this  autumn?  "  he 
cried.  It  was  then  that  they  got  nearest  to  the  Empe- 
ror's villa,  and  saw  the  outline  of  the  dumpy  figure.  They 
turned  their  faces  once  more  to  the  river  and  their  own 
domain. 

"Won't  you  come  to  Russia  this  autumn?  I  am  going. 
I  have  promised  my  mother;  and  there  is  my  examina- 
tion in  November.  Excepting  for  those  three  or  four 
days,  the  whole  of  my  time  shall  be  devoted  to  you." 

"  It  is  worth  considering,"  the  girl  answered  gravely. 
"We  must  see  what  father  says.  I  am  afraid  he  will 
have  had  enough  of  the  Continent  for  one  year." 

"Muriel,  he  will  go  if  only  you  want  it  very  much." 
Fersen  pleaded. 

"  But  I  am  not  sure  whether  I  do  want  it  very  much," 
she  laughed.  "  I  must  think  about  it  a  bit  first. " 

"Oh,  Muriel." 

"  Nicholas,  you  are  a  terrible  egotist.  You  are  fright- 
ened to  make  the  cold  journey  all  by  yourself.  There  is 
another  thing," — dropping  her  voice — "  father's  chances 
really  are  pretty  decent  this  time.  We  may  all  of  us 
have  to  start  for  India  in  December:  how  would  you  like 
that,  goose? " 

"  I  should  not  like  it  at  all,"  he  groaned. 

"  Mind,  you  must  not  breathe  a  word  to  a  living  soul. 
I  have  been  horribly  indiscreet  to  tell  you.  I  know  you 
will  give  the  news  to  Prehlen;  and  he  will  sell  it  to  the 
Tsar.  Well,  I  have  put  you  on  your  word  of  honour. 
Nothing  is  settled  for  certain;  nothing  beyond  this,  that 
father  saw  Mr.  Rodenham  on  Sunday  night,  and  heard 
then  that  his  chance  was  as  good  as  anyone's. 

"I  really  do  not  know  what  I  shall  do,  if  you  go  to 
India,"  moaned  Nicholas. 

"Come  too,  stupid.     Monsieur  Prehlen  won't  mind; 


258  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

you  can  send  him  secrets  from  Government  House.  You 
may  be  of  more  use  that  way  than  you  are  at  present. 
Father  says  you  're  the  idlest  young  attache  he  's  ever 
seen.  Charles  is  quite  shocked  with  you." 

"I  hate  Charles,"  he  snapped  out. 

Muriel's  reproof  lacked  conviction. 

"He  is  not  respectful  to  your  mother,"  Nicholas  re- 
torted. 

"But  he  is  her  favourite." 

"  Then  why  does  he  speak  to  her  so  rudely?  I  never 
address  my  mother  in  that  way.  And  he  cringes  to  his 
father." 

"Ah,  that  is  because  they  are  not  on  very  good 
terms." 

"  His  conceit  is  unfathomable." 

"  Charles  is  very  clever.  He  is  going  to  be  a  great 
man  some  day." 

"  How  did  he  come  to  fail  in  his  university  examina- 
tions? Walter  got  through. " 

"You  are  a  spiteful  old  thing.  You  sha'n't  malign 
him  any  further.  You  must  try  and  like  him.  And  you 
will  be  kind  to  him  this  winter,  for  my  sake." 

"I  '11  be  kind  to  him,"  he  grumbled;  "but  like  him 
I  never  can.  Muriel,"  and  his  voice  resought  the  old 
softness,  "  Muriel,  I  heard  from  my  mother  yesterday." 

Her  voice  softened  too,  though  somewhat  against 
her  will.  She  could  but  feel  sorry. 

"So  you  told  me,  Nicholas." 

"And,  Muriel,  she — she — knows  all. " 

"  Does  she,  Nicholas?" 

"I  told  her  everything." 

"Oh,  Nicholas,  I  am  afraid  you  are  a  great,  great 
goose." 

"She  knows  everything,  Muriel,  and  she  approves. 
She  gives  her  unqualified  consent." 

"What  to,  pray?  "  cries  Muriel. 

"You  know  I  love  you." 

"Yes,  silly  boy,  I  know,"  once  more  quite  low. 

"  Won't  you  be  my  wife?  " 

The  question  which  had  hovered  on  his  tongue  this 
two  years  past  was  out  at  last.  And  they  reached  the 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  259 

bridge  while  he  spoke.  They  halted  underneath  the 
flickering  lamp.  It  had  shone  down  upon  another  of 
her  admirers  not  so  long  ago.  "  Answer  me,  Muriel. 
Do  you  not  love  me?  " 

"Oh,    Nicholas,"    she   pleaded,    "really    I    do    not 
know." 


Chapter  IV 


Napoleon  soon  discovered  how  quickly  time  slips  by 
for  the  man  with  an  engrossing  occupation.  Instead  of 
returning  to  Paris  upon  the  Sunday  evening,  as  he  had 
half  promised  Brisson,  he  lingered  on  from  day  to  day 
in  this  enchanting  neighbourhood.  A  second  Sunday  was 
already  close  at  hand. 

Not  that  his  success  justified  so  protracted  an  absence 
from  business.  The  girl  gave  him  no  direct  encourage- 
ment; and  he  was  forced  to  extract  as  much  comfort  as 
he  could  from  the  fact  that  he  occasionally  found  her  in 
his  grounds.  In  love,  we  argue  much  from  slender  prem- 
ises: he  took  it  she  did  not  view  his  suit  with  absolute 
disfavour. 

But  even  this  solacement  proved  of  a  diluted  kind. 
For  days  together,  he  caught  no  glimpse  of  this  loved 
being,  though  he  loitered  about  the  usual  spot  until  a 
late  and  often  chilly  hour.  The  third  evening,  perhaps, 
after  a  couple  such  total  disappearances,  he  would  come 
upon  her  reclining  at  full  length  with  a  book  in  front  of 
her  (as  she  had  lain  just  prior  to  that  second  interview 
of  famous  memory),  or  strolling  along  the  river  path, 
flinging  stones  lazily  into  the  still  lazier  pools.  She 
always  greeted  him  calmly,  and  with  half-impudent  sur- 
prise; though  she  must  have  known  full  well  that  he 
came  here  every  evening  on  one  exclusive  errand,  and 
counted  it  a  day  lost  and  not  worth  the  living,  when  it 
failed  of  success.  At  times  indeed — and  this  was  the  near- 
est approach  to  direct  encouragement  he  could  ever  get — 
she  would  allow  the  merest  tinge  of  dominion  to  colour 
her  attitude  towards  him,  asking  him  to  perform  trifling 
services  that  were  absolutely  unnecessary;  and  this  for 
no  other  conceivable  reason — so  it  seemed  to  him — than 
260 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  261 

to  show  even  the  trees  and  river  and  the  evening  sky  the 
sway  exercised  by  a  fragile  girl  of  twenty  over  a  mighty 
emperor.  Beyond  this,  his  exalted  position  seemed  to 
make  no  impression  upon  her.  She  treated  him  with 
absolute  and  unquestionable  disrespect,  never  giving 
him  any  title,  unless,  as  sometimes  happened,  he  had 
been  induced  by  her  pretty  little  assumptions  of  sover- 
eignty to  employ,  on  his  part,  tones  of  increasing  tender- 
ness. Then  indeed,  by  means  of  frigid  but  never 
exaggerated  politeness,  she  would  recall  him  to  his 
senses. 

Either  she  was  fortunate  in  her  ingenuousness,  or  else 
very,  very  clever;  for  she  could  have  adopted  no  means 
more  calculated  to  fascinate  and  enslave.  Each  hour 
her  lover  sank  deeper  into  the  morass  of  infatuation.  It 
was  a  complete  surrender  of  body  and  soul.  Apart  from 
her,  he  could  do  naught  but  think  on  the  next  meeting; 
in  her  presence,  he  was  paralyzed  by  the  dread  of  a 
speedy  parting.  Godefroy  found  that  his  powers  of  ap- 
plication had  disappeared  entirely,  and  the  old  man  felt 
sick  at  heart,  as  much  for  the  living  cause  of  so  much 
idleness  as  for  the  idleness  itself. 

"Poor  thing!  poor  thing!  "  he  would  mutter  five  or 
six  times  a  day  in  the  privacy  of  his  own  peculiar  cham- 
ber, which  already  managed  to  resemble  the  green-room 
of  a  transpontine  theatre;  "emperors  and  kings  are 
dangerous  folk  to  play  with,  and  this  young  woman  will 
fare  like  all  the  rest."  He  had  seen  her,  and  felt  almost 
a  father's  pity  towards  her  fragile  beauty  and  innocent 
face. 

Moreover,  Godefroy  was  a  stanch  Brissonite,  who 
laboured  under  the  conviction  that  any  delay  in  taking 
the  offensive  meant  ruin  to  France.  But  like  a  wise  man, 
and  one  possessing  deep  knowledge  and  experience  of 
his  brethren,  he  refrained  from  all  remonstrance.  He 
left  Napoleon  severely  alone,  obeying  his  slightest  order, 
indeed,  with  the  utmost  punctuality;  but  not  venturing 
upon  those  small  conversations,  which  up  till  now  had 
imparted  a  genial  flavour  to  their  mutual  relations,  be- 
sides affording  his  Majesty  an  excuse  for  many  a  morn- 
ing spent  in  idleness. 


262  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

But  on  a  certain  sultry  afternoon  (perhaps  the  tenth 
of  their  sojourn  there),  as  the  genial  fellow  lay  in  his 
basement  room,  gazing  disconsolately  at  a  dust-begrimed 
vignette  of  Sarah  Bernhardt,  and  feeling  sick  to  death 
with  worry  and  weariness,  a  brilliant  idea  shot  across  his 
brain.  The  clouds  cleared  from  his  brow  almost  by 
magic.  Writing  generally  came  as  an  abomination  to 
him,  yet  he  sprang  without  a  moment's  hesitation  to  a 
small  desk  in  an  unobtrusive  corner,  and  flung  himself 
full  length  over  a  sheet  of  blue-lined  paper  which  slowly 
— very  slowly — took  the  shape  of  an  urgent  missive.  It 
was  to  Marshal  Brisson,  and  it  implored  the  latter  to 
come  forthwith  to  Meaux  to  protect  national  interests 
seriously  imperilled.  It  was,  furthermore,  for  Godefroy, 
exceedingly  long  and  eloquent.  Save  in  times  of  stress, 
his  letters  were  like  his  utterances — laconic;  and  he  felt 
considerable  surprise,  and  no  small  amount  of  pride,  when 
he  surveyed  the  four  closely  written  sides  of  mingled 
warning  and  entreaty  produced  by  an  hour's  unremitting 
toil.  The  concluding  paragraph,  in  his  opinion,  showed 
especial  acuteness. 

"  An  additional  danger, "  so  he  wound  up,  "  threatens 
us  from  the  fact  that  this  poor  girl  is  half-English. 
Might  she  not — or  rather,  might  not  her  father,  the  in- 
solent Earl  of  Framlingham — use  her  growing  power  to 
betray  us?  Do  not  hesitate  a  moment,  I  beseech.  Al- 
ready some  uncanny  spirit  whispers  me  that  this  may  be 
the  beginning  of  the  end." 

Godefroy  covered  the  back  of  the  envelope  with  red 
sealing-wax,  and  the  wax  with  numberless  impressions 
taken  from  an  unwieldy  bronze  and  agate  seal,  which 
had  in  earlier  days  stamped  the  death-warrants  of  the 
Thedtre  du  Peuple.  This  completed,  the  valet  summoned 
the  most  trustworthy  among  his  subordinates  and  sent 
him  off  as  a  special  messenger  to  Paris.  Then  he  threw 
himself  once  more  upon  his  baize  sofa  to  await  the  Min- 
ister's reply. 

Nor  did  he  have  to  wait  long.  Near  eleven  the  same 
evening,  while  he  was  making  ready  to  carry  up  the  can- 
dles, Brisson  walked  unannounced  into  his  room. 

The  Minister  of  War  looked  gaunt  and  soldierly  as 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  263 

ever;  no  trace  of  emotion  over  his  thin  face.  His  voice, 
when  he  spoke,  was  equally  unconcerned.  "Aha,  Gode- 
froy,"  said  he,  nodding  slightly,  "here  I  am.  I  know 
you  are  not  the  man  to  write  'urgent' without  good  cause." 

The  butler  turned  slowly  round  from  his  candles  and 
surveyed  the  new-comer  with  a  countenance  no  less  im- 
passive. ' '  Marshal, ' '  he  exclaimed,  ' '  you  remove  a  load 
from  my  mind.  Be  seated.  And  pray — pray  excuse  me 
for  a  few  minutes. ' '  He  shambled  off  with  the  Emperor's 
night-lights,  saw  to  all  his  master's  requirements,  tested 
a  few  bolts  and  shutters,  and  then  returned,  always  de- 
liberately, to  this  quasi-midnight  conference. 

Their  conversation  lasted  until  close  upon  twelve. 
Godefroy's  narrative  came  slowly,  but  it  was  full  of  local 
colour,  and  the  Marshal  listened  to  him  without  inter- 
ruption. The  whole  history  of  the  intrigue  soon  lay 
bare  before  him.  The  valet  had  heard  from  Napoleon 
of  the  earlier  meetings,  both  in  London  and  by  the  river- 
side on  the  first  afternoon  of  their  arrival.  What  later 
ones  had  taken  place  he  could  not  tell ;  but  this  he  knew, 
that  the  Emperor  went  every  day  towards  the  river,  and 
that  they  were  lingering  on  here  without  open  purpose. 
He  passed  on  from  this  recital  of  his  master's  infatua- 
tion to  a  description  of  the  girl's  innocent  beauty.  Brisson 
interrupted  him  with  an  exclamation  of  disgust. 

"Faugh!"  he  cried  in  an  abrupt  manner  not  usual 
with  him,  "  Godefroy,  where  are  your  brains?  I  have  not 
seen  this  fairy,  but  your  description  convinces  me  that 
she  is  a  scheming,  designing  adventuress,  notwithstand- 
ing her  blue  blood,  on  which  you  seem  to  lay  such  stress. 
Why,  you  must  have  come  across  many  a  score  of  her 
sort  in  your  day." 

"I  am  an  older  man  than  you,"  Godefroy  rejoined 
harshly;  "  and  as  you  say,  I  have  seen  women  of  all  sorts 
in  my  time.  Mark  my  word,  Marshal  Brisson,  this  girl 
is  as  delicate  and  pure  and  innocent  as — " 

"Oh,  never  mind  her.  At  present  we  have  to  think 
only  about  him.  Finish  your  tale." 

So  the  valet  finished  his  tale, — with  sullenness  now, 
but  no  change  of  pace, — and  Brisson  sat  for  a  while, 
after  it  was  ended,  wrapt  in  thought. 


264  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  It  is  no  use, ' '  said  he  at  last,  breaking  a  long  silence, 
"I  must  speak  with  his  Majesty  at  once." 

"  Quite  impossible.  The  Emperor  went  to  bed  an 
hour  ago." 

"  I  will  beg  an  interview  the  first  thing  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

"More  and  more  absurd,"  Godefroy  returned  with 
acrid  monotony.  The  other's  remarks  about  Muriel  had 
ruffled  him. 

"Why  is  it  absurd?  "  asked  the  Marshal. 

"  His  Majesty  will  stand  no  hectoring  from  you.  He 
would  bid  you  mind  your  own  business,  and  want  to  know, 
besides,  why  you  came  here  uninvited.  No,  no,  not  even 
that  poor  little  master  of  ours  is  likely  to  tolerate  dicta- 
tion on  such  a  subject." 

Brisson  passed  a  hand  across  his  brow  with  a  gesture 
betokening  absolute  impotence.  "  I  am  afraid  you  are 
right,"  he  groaned.  Then,  caught  by  a  sudden  burst  of 
unconquerable  anger,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  strode  to 
and  fro  about  the  room. 

"  I  made  him,  I  made  him,"  he  cried,  savagely;  "  and 
behold  his  gratitude!  But  for  me,  he  might  have  found 
himself  compelled  to  return  to  his  miserable  London  gar- 
ret. Why  did  I  risk  my  head, — the  blood  of  countless 
better  men?  He  is  not — "  . 

The  Minister  came  to  a  broken  ending  from  sheer 
emotion.  Godefroy  gave  him  a  few  minutes'  grace  in 
case  he  might  desire  to  add  anything.  He  did  not,  but 
instead  threw  himself  wearily  into  his  chair.  So  the  valet 
began : 

"  Do  not  let  us  be  foolish.  There  must  be  a  plan 
somewhere,  and  we  shall  not  get  at  it  by  shouting  up  and 
down  the  room  like  maniacs.  Now  I  make  this  sugges- 
tion: you  go  straight  to  the  young  lady  herself  and — " 

Brisson  sprang  bolt  upright. 

"The  very  thing.     I  will  go  to-morrow." 

"Then  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said,"  the  old  fel- 
low answered,  rising,  "except  that  I  am  dead  tired,  and 
it  is  close  on  midnight." 

Brisson  rose  too,  and  suffered  a  candlestick  to  be 
thrust  into  his  hand.  His  thoughts  were  far  away; 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  265 

so  far  indeed  that  the  valet  was  tempted  to  ask  ab- 
ruptly: 

"  How  will  you  deal  with  Mademoiselle?  " 

"  I  shall  beg  of  her  in  the  interests  of  our  dear  coun- 
try. If  that  fails,  I  shall  venture  to  remind  her  of  her 
good  name.  If  that  fails,  I  shall  warn  her" — here  his 
eyes  kindled — "that  France  of  to-day  has  neither  love 
for  kings'  mistresses  nor  fat  places  for  their  bastards." 

"Take  care,  take  care,"  said  Godefroy;  and  he 
sought  his  own  chamber,  not  quite  so  satisfied  with  his 
afternoon's  work  as  he  had  hoped  to  be. 

The  Minister  of  War  took  breakfast  in  his  bedroom, 
and  set  about  his  errand  immediately  this  meal  was 
ended.  He  chose  the  most  roundabout  way,  keeping 
along  the  high  road  and  by-lanes,  in  order  not  to  pass 
through  the  grounds  which  lay  directly  underneath  the 
library  window.  Even  then  his  visit  was  an  early  one; 
and  Monsieur  Pons,  the  hall  porter  of  the  Villa  Henriette, 
made  no  effort  to  conceal  the  suspicion  wherewith  he 
regarded  the  tall,  ungainly  man  who  stood  quite  at  his 
ease  beneath  the  glass-roofed  porch,  and  demanded — not 
even  apologetically — an  interview  with  the  Lady  Muriel. 

Brisson's  card,  however,  sufficed  to  soothe  the  zealous 
domestic.  The  Minister  was  ushered  into  a  small  wait- 
ing-room, while  Pons  went  off  to  inform  his  mistress  of 
her  distinguished  visitor.  He  speedily  returned,  and  de- 
sired his  Excellency,  with  many  bows,  to  follow  him  to 
Mademoiselle's  boudoir. 

"  She  is  accessible,  for  a  future  empress,"  the  visitor 
muttered  grimly,  as  he  obeyed. 

Lady  Muriel's  boudoir  had,  once  upon  a  time, — and 
that  not  so  long  ago — been  Lady  Muriel's  schoolroom; 
for  she  was  but  just  now  grown  altogether  free  of  com- 
pulsory education.  Signs  of  its  quondam  scholastic  char- 
acter still  lingered;  and  the  first  thing  that  the  Minister 
noticed  upon  entering  was  a  large  globe  which  stood  in 
the  embrasure  of  an  oriel  window.  It  appeared  to  con- 
sist of  some  soft,  cork-like  substance;  small  flags  were 
stuck  about  it  in  disordered  and  apparently  planless  pro- 
fusion. The  western  hemisphere  was  uppermost.  With 
his  keen  glance  Brisson  could  see  distinctly  that  two 


266  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

flags,  the  tricolour  and  the  union  jack,  were  stuck  side 
by  side  in  the  very  heart  of  France.  His  brain,  how- 
ever, was  less  keen.  He  found  no  significance  in  this 
geographical  demarcation. 

He  turned  at  once  to  the  young  girl,  who  stood  expect- 
ant beside  the  door.  She  still  held  his  card;  and  the 
bright  flush  which  had  not  yet  died  from  out  her  cheeks, 
lending  lustre  to  the  eyes,  made  him  look  at  her  with 
added  interest.  In  this  case,  his  brain  was  more  acute. 
"God  alone  knows  what  she  thinks  my  errand  is,"  he 
murmured. 

"  Marshal  Brisson  desires  to  speak  with  me?  " 

"If  Mademoiselle  will  allow?  " 

She  motioned  him  to  a  chair,  which  he  would  have 
much  rather  foregone,  feeling,  as  he  did,  that  his  present 
task  needed  his  full  six-foot.  The  girl  herself  remained 
standing  beside  the  globe,  and  within  the  windowed 
recess. 

For  all  her  high-bred  bearing,  she  could  not  quite 
conceal  the  smile  that  played  about  her  mouth  and  lent 
so  great  a  charm  to  her  youth.  But  it  was  a  smile  which 
died  away  by  pin-points  as  Brisson  proceeded. 

Never  very  eloquent,  he  spoke  to-day  with  the  utmost 
difficulty,  sometimes  hesitating  a  minute  or  two  for  a 
single  word.  But  it  must  be  confessed  that  his  errand 
was  a  delicate  one.  Now  that  he  found  himself  face  to 
face  with  the  girl,  he  kept  wondering  how  he  had  ever 
had  the  temerity  to  seek  an  interview  upon  such  meagre 
grounds. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  began  forlornly,  gazing  the  while 
with  undue  concentration  into  the  crown  of  his  hat, — 
"Mademoiselle  cannot  but  be  aware  of  the  impression 
which  she  has  made  upon  the  Emperor? " 

Mademoiselle  made  no  answer.  Only  the  smile  deep- 
ened. As  for  Brisson,  he  did  not  notice  her  face,  inas- 
much as  he  was  still  busy  with  his  hat.  He  took  the 
silence  to  imply  an  admission  of  his  premises. 

"But  does  Mademoiselle  reflect  that  any  distraction 
at  this  moment  may  turn  the  Emperor  from  imperative 
duties,  and  prove,  perchance,  disastrous  to  our  beautiful 
France? " 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  267 

By  the  time  he  had  finished,  the  smile  was  gone  en- 
tirely, leaving  the  face  as  motionless  as  marble. 

"  I  am  English,"  she  answered  coldly. 

"Ah,  yes,"  he  urged,  still  all  persuasion;  "  but  there 
is  some  of  our  blood  in  your  veins.  And  France  gives 
you  a  beautiful  home." 

"  We  pay  for  it,  Monsieur,"  she  replied  with  a  cheer- 
less laugh. 

This  schoolgirl  answer  and  her  grating  manner  nearly 
stung  him  into  an  impatient  rejoinder.  But,  though  no 
De  Morin,  he  was  diplomat  enough  to  recognize  that  he 
was  already  and  altogether  on  the  wrong  tack.  Accord- 
ingly he  very  wisely  bridled  his  tongue  and  suffered  a 
minute  to  elapse  in  silence. 

When  he  spoke  again,  it  was  in  a  modulated,  wellnigh 
honeyed  manner,  common  enough  among  many  of  his 
countrymen,  but  hardly  in  keeping  with  his  own  stern 
and  flinty  appearance. 

"  There  is  something  that  a  young  girl  should  love 
even  more  than  her  country,"  said  he,  now  looking  her 
fairly  in  the  face — "her  honour.  Believe  me,  my  dear 
young  lady,  you  imperil  it  by  even  thinking  of  the  Em- 
peror. He  could  never  marry  you,  however  sorry  he 
might  feel  for  having  wronged  you.  He  may  grow  to — 
nay,  perhaps  to-day  he  loves  you  tenderly  enough;  but 
in  his  love  lies  your  danger.  You  alone  can  guard  your- 
self. Just  as  you  alone  will  be  to  blame,  if  this  ends  in 
your  disgrace  and  the  shame  of  a  noble  family." 

Her  face  had  grown  ashen. 

"This  is  intolerable!  "  she  cried  shrilly.  "How  do 
you  know  that  I  have  exchanged  a  single  word  with  your 
parvenu  Emperor?  " 

"You  did  not  deny  it  a  few  moments  back." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  I  have,"  she  went  on  vehemently,  like  a 
passionate  child  who  hardly  knows  what  she  is  saying, 
"  it  is  his  fault,  not  mine.  I  do  n't  seek  him  out.  He 
forces  himself  upon  me.  Besides," — and  these  next 
words  were  uttered  with  great  disdain, — "I  should  think 
that  a  Mendril  might  be  trusted  to  guard  her  honour 
against  the  wiles  of  a  little  attorney." 

There  was  something  so  childish,  so  immature,  so  im- 


268  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

potent,  about  her  rage,  that  for  the  life  of  him  he  could 
feel  nothing  but  a  half  contemptuous  pity  in  return.  In 
addition,  he  was  more  than  twice  her  age,  and  he  would 
have  thought  it  shame  to  have  been  angered  by  her,  had 
her  methods  been  ten  times  as  skilful.  But  either  he 
underrated  her  capabilities  or,  overestimated  his  own 
powers  of  endurance. 

"If  I  have  done  you  wrong,"  he  said  gravely,  "I 
am  truly  sorry.  My  desire  in  this  matter  is  to  serve  you 
no  less  than  my  master.  If,  however,  on  the  other  hand 
— and  your  anger  seems  to  me  to  bear  out  this  latter 
alternative, — I  am  right,  and  you  are  jeopardizing  your 
good  name,  then  I  beg  you  to  pay  heed  to  my  warning." 

"  And  I,  in  return,  beg  you  to  relieve  me  of  your  pres- 
ence,"  she  replied,  with  a  deliberation  which  strove  to  re- 
semble his,  "you  have  been  guilty  of  an  unpardonable 
rudeness,  thus  to  force  your  way  into  a  private  house  and 
insult  a  defenceless  girl."  Her  passion  once  more  got  the 
better  of  her,  shaking  her  slender  frame  from  head  to  foot. 
"If  my  father  or  my  brothers  were  here,"  she  cried, 
"  they  should  whip  you.  But  of  course  you  take  good 
care  to  come  when  they  are  away  from  home.  You 
French  are  all  alike.  You  need  the  Germans  back  to 
show  the  world  that  bullies  are  always  cowards."  . 

An  oath  leapt  to  his  lips.  "We  French  will  show 
in  good  time  whether  we  are  cowards  or  not.  For  the 
rest,  Mademoiselle,  be  sure  of  this:  we  have  not  re-es- 
tablished the  Empire  to  benefit  harlots  or  royal  bas- 
tards." And  with  this  cruel  insult  he  turned  upon  his 
heels  and  quitted  room  and  house,  without  bestowing  so 
much  as  a  nod  in  acknowledgment  of  Monsieur  Pons's 
elaborate  bow. 

To  do  him  justice,  his  anger  was  mainly  shame  for 
his  unwarrantable  words.  After  all,  her  outburst  had 
not  been  altogether  without  justification;  while  no  taunt, 
however  bitter,  could  excuse  his  own.  So  he  returned  to 
the  Villa  Yvonne  full  of  blind  rage,  and  Godefroy  ob- 
tained the  merest  skeleton  of  the  fiasco. 

Brisson, —  the  calm,  precise,  soldierly  Brisson, —  in- 
stead, strode  up  and  down  the  pantry  like  a  caged  tiger 
suddenly  become  talkative. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  269 

"I  will  go  to  Turkey,"  he  said  fiercely,  "and  offer 
my  sword  there.  France  is  no  place  for  me,  nor  for 
any  one  who  is  a  man.  I  will  leave  it,  and  try  and  for- 
get it." 

When  Muriel  returned  from  her  morning  walk — not 
that  they  all  took  her  into  other  people's  parks — she 
found  a  stout  and  elderly  gentlemen  waiting  patiently  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  hall  for  what  seemed  nothing  in 
particular.  His  eyes  were  closed,  and  as  she  passed 
him  on  her  way  to  the  drawing-room,  she  took  stock  of 
his  close-cropped  iron-grey  hair,  his  fat,  ruddy  face,  his 
shining  alpaca  coat,  and  the  soft  white  Panama  hat  with 
broad  black  silk  ribbon  which  lay  some  little  distance  in 
front  of  him  upon  the  tessellated  pavement.  Indeed, 
the  last-named  article  nearly  tripped  her  up,  for  the  hall 
was  badly  lighted,  and  dark  on  the  brightest  days. 

"Is  it  Mademoiselle  the  daughter  of  the  house?  "  he 
asked  softly,  with  eyes  peering  forth  from  such  nar- 
row slits  she  could  hardly  believe  that  he  was  awake. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied. 

"Then  may  I  have  a  word  with  Mademoiselle  in 
private? " 

"  Pons !"  she  cried,  turning  angrily  to  the  hall  porter, — 
"  Pons,  I  thought  I  ordered  you  not  to  let  any  strangers 
in!  What  is  the  meaning  of  this? "  and  she  pointed 
disdainfully  at  Godefroy,  who  kept  his  seat  with  stolid 
unconcern. 

Monsieur  Pons  hurried  forward,  all  zeal  and  anxiety. 

"This  is  only  a  gentleman  from  the  library  at  Meaux. 
He  comes  to  change  my  lady's  books." 

"I  have  no  subscription,"  she  said  with  contempt. 
"You  have  no  business  here,  sir.  Be  good  enough  to 
go  this  instant. " 

Pons,  meanwhile,  had  again  withdrawn  to  a  discreet 
distance.  He  was  a  little  man,  and  one  with  a  horror  of 
bloodshed;  Godefroy  seized  the  opportunity. 

He  rose,  and  advanced  a  step  towards  her. 

"  Of  course  I  will  depart,  if  Mademoiselle  so  desires  it. 
But  may  I  not  first  set  right  this  morning's  terrible  mis- 
take? "' 

It  was  the  persuasiveness  of  Got  and  Bernhardt  rolled 


270  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

into  one,  and  yet  restrained  within  the  limits  of  a  sim- 
ple intensity  that  was  absolutely  devoid  of  gesture.  And 
she,  who  scarcely  knew  the  great  originals,  could  not 
fail  to  be  touched  and  moved  from  her  set  purpose. 

Moreover,  she  yearned  for  some  apology,  some  com- 
paratively healing  salve  for  the  unmanly  wound  which 
Brisson  had  inflicted.  Were  they  altogether  undeserved, 
these  insults  which  he  ought  never  to  have  uttered? 
She  did  not  feel  quite  easy  on  that  score.  Truly 
the  first  meeting  was  innocent  enough.  It  occurred 
on  the  day  of  her  arrival  in  France.  She  had  never 
before  knowingly  set  eyes  upon  the  Emperor;  and 
she  had  no  means  of  recognizing  the  sallow  little  figure 
whose  soliloquy  she  interrupted  by  the  river-side.  But 
behold !  at  home,  that  same  evening,  on  opening  the 
front  page  of  the  new  L1  Illustration,  she  came  across 
the  yellow  unknown  once  more  face  to  face,  and  there 
could  be  no  further  doubt  as  to  his  identity.  Yet  two 
days  later  she  permitted  herself  to  wander  back  into  the 
Park  Yvonne,  and  ask  questions  about  Russian  princesses ! 
And  then,  when  she  had  let  him  know  that  she  knew 
who  he  was,  she  still  met  him, — rarely  indeed,  and  al- 
ways by  accident,  and  only  for  a  few  minutes  each  time; 
but  in  love,  as  in  law,  the  principle  is  the  thing;  and 
where  you  dig  the  trenches,  the  water  soon  comes,  for 
the  land  lies  much  below  the  level  of  the  sea.  She  did 
not  try  to  blink  these  unpleasant  facts.  Nay,  if  any- 
thing, she  exaggerated  them,  now  that  they  were  thus 
arrayed  before  her,  giving  them  more  than  their  full  sig- 
nificance. The  cowardly  Frenchman — the  only  name 
she  had  for  Brisson — was  armed  with  a  weapon  of  her 
own  forging.  She  had  spent  the  morning,  after  his  de- 
parture, in  sharp  regrets  for  her  imprudence.  In  her 
first  agony  she  called  it  something  worse.  Nor  did  she 
get  much  solace  from  the  hastily  registered  vow  which 
promised  greater  circumspection  in  all  her  future  deal- 
ings with  mankind. 

But  she  was,  after  all,  little  more  than  a  child,  and  an 
erring  mortal  besides.  Only  in  novels  is  it  permitted  to 
paint  the  character  a  single  colour — black  or  white  or 
grey — at  the  outset,  and  to  launch  it  upon  its  changeless, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  271 

immutable  course  through  three  volumes.  Real  life 
gives  the  lie  to  any  such  arbitrary  labelling,  and  reiter- 
ates, day  by  day,  that  one  everlasting  commonplace  which 
declares  the  good  in  men  to  be  mingled  with  the  evil. 
Our  characters  are  kaleidoscopic,  having  in  them  the 
materials  for  every  pattern — the  ugliest  as  well  as  the 
most  beautiful.  Or, — and  the  writer  claims  for  these 
tropes  merely  that  they  convey  the  faintest  shadow  of 
his  meaning, — we  resemble  church  organs,  with  pipes  for 
every  note,  and  notes  for  every  melody,  when  it  pleases 
favouring  Circumstance  to  sit  at  the  stops.  This  young 
girl  must  be  judged  by  the  common  standard.  Barely 
twenty,  full  of  animal  spirit,  and  conscious  enough  of  her 
own  rank  to  be  careless  of  conventionalities,  she  had 
dallied  with  a  danger  which  might  one  day  plunge  her 
into  disgrace.  She  knew  this  well,  that  emperors  are 
ticklish  people  to  meddle  with;  that  she  did  wrong  in 
ever  putting  foot  within  his  gates.  But  she  was  far  from 
being  the  scheming  woman  that  Brisson  imagined,  or  the 
vicious  one  that,  in  his  rage,  he  had  suggested.  Indeed, 
her  mind  was  fresh,  and  healthy,  and  coldly  pure.  She 
was  not  ignorant;  but  she  was  entirely  innocent,  and 
felt  merely  indifferent  contempt  for  passions  which  she 
had  never  known.  But  she  appreciated  Brisson's  insult 
to  the  full.  The  very  memory  of  it  burnt  the  blushes 
into  her  pale  proud  face. 

Her  schemes  were  equally  the  phantoms  of  his  brain. 
Her  cold,  disdainful  nature  was  not  incompatible  with 
an  ardent  and  rich  imagination  and  an  overpowering 
ambition,  both  of  which  may  have  come  to  her  with  her 
mother's  blood.  From  the  days  of  her  earliest  thinking 
childhood,  it  had  been  a  habit  with  her  to  wander  soli- 
tary, now  beside  the  river  Marne,  now  among  the  red 
chalk  downs  of  her  English  home,  her  mind  busy  with 
the  building  of  innumerable  magnificent  castles,  wherein 
she  always  held  the  proudest  place. 

Passing  events  had  their  effect  upon  the  structure. 
To-day,  she  pictured  herself  a  famous  lady  doctor,  bring- 
ing hope  into  many  a  home  where  death  impended.  To- 
morrow, she  would  figure  as  the  wife  of  some  great  pre- 
mier, having,  herself,  no  mean  voice — if  hidden — in  the 


272  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

councils  of  the  nation.  At  another  time  her  day-dream 
wrought  the  sheen  of  literary  creation  into  its  texture. 
A  marvellous  novel,  a  poem  which  shook  men's  hearts, — 
one  or  the  other,  and  she  did  not  much  care  which, — 
would  burst  with  meteoric  abruptness  upon  an  astonished 
world:  the  question  of  the  hour, — who  wrote  it?  and  the 
answer  not  long  withheld. 

She  resembled  Napoleon  in  this.  She  resembled 
many  a  better  man  too;  for  these  vagrant  fancies  are 
not  the  exclusive  monopoly  of  flabby  wills.  Most  of  us 
at  times  build  castles  in  Spain;  though,  as  a  rule,  they 
are  constructed  very  much  in  outline,  and  are  hastily 
demolished.  "How  I  should  like  to  be  a  great  general," 
says  one, — and  then  directly  the  guards  and  their  music 
have  passed  by,  and  his  bus  can  get  on  again,  he  straight- 
way loses  this  haphazard  martial  ardour,  and  resumes 
his  study  of  the  money  column.  "What  would  I  give  to 
be  a  leading  parliamentarian  and  the  friend  of  royalty," 
says  another  as  he  gazes  enviously  at  the  right-hand  box 
on  the  first  tier.  Behold!  when  he  is  in  the  very  midst 
of  a  ghostly  dinner-party  at  Marlborough  House,  and  no 
less  a  person  than  his  royal  host  has  asked  him  what  he 
means  to  do  with  the  next  Employers'  Liability  Bill,  up 
goes  the  curtain,  and  all  sinks  into  nothingness  beside 
the  troubles  of  some  lady  who  does — for  three  acts. 

With  Muriel  it  was  different.  Much  alone,  and  fonder 
of  the  open  air  than  of  books,  she  made  these  palaces 
often,  and  always  elaborately;  every  nook  and  corner  of 
them  all  being,  so  to  speak,  furnished ;  and  every  room 
inhabited. 

Hence,  for  days  she  had  been  walking  about  as  Em- 
press of  the  French,  the  central  figure  of  a  dazzling  court. 
Even  this  morning,  since  Brisson's  abrupt  departure,  she 
could  not  banish  that  absorbing  picture.  The  Marshal's 
disgrace  and  exile  were,  for  the  moment,  the  phantom 
results  of  ^r  phantom  greatness. 

It  must  be  confessed,  however,  this  last  dream  differed 
from  all  the  others  that  had  preceded  it.  Those  had 
never  contemplated  actual  fulfilment.  For  one  thing, 
they  were  too  varied;  while,  moreover,  most  of  them 
predicated  some  opportunity  which  never  offered,  or  an 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  273 

effort  which  was  effectually  barred  by  the  comfort  of  her 
position.  They  gave  her  the  warmth  that  she  did  not 
need,  just  as  they  give  warmth  to  poorer  folk  who  have 
nothing  else.  She  recognized  them  to  be  merely  exhil- 
arants,  and  she  did  not  enjoy  them  any  the  less  on  that 
account.  But  here  came  a  dream  suggested  by  the 
chance  itself.  It  was  not  in  human  nature  to  cast  it 
boldly  to  one  side. 

The  laughing  side  of  her  nature — no  inconsiderable 
element — must  also  bear  some  portion  of  the  blame. 
After  all,  it  was  a  great  joke,  this  playing  tricks  on  his 
Majesty  Napoleon  IV,  and  a  joke  wherein  only  two 
people  need  take  any  part.  Her  inexperience  contributed ; 
for  it  caused  her  to  overlook  their  relative  positions. 
A  few  meetings  had  sufficed  to  show  that  he  was  her 
slave,  or  well  on  the  road  to  that  devout  consummation; 
consequently  she  felt  no  reverence  towards  his  person. 
As  for  his  name,  she  did  not  give  the  matter  a  thought. 
She  was  a  Mendril.  "  In  the  beginning  God  created 
the  heaven  and  the  earth,"  and  the  Mendrils.  That  was 
sufficient.  If  any  question  arose  at  all,  it  touched  his 
eligibility  rather  than  hers. 

"I  will  hear  you,"  she  said  simply.  "Come,"  and 
she  led  the  way  into  her  small  boudoir.  She  offered 
him  Brisson's  chair,  which  still  stood  where  the  latter 
had  left  it,  facing  the  globe  and  the  oriel  window.  Gode- 
froy  shook  his  head.  "  I  am  a  plain  serving-man,  and  I 
prefer  to  stand."  Muriel  herself  moved  to  a  position  in 
front  of  the  fireplace,  and  was  now  directly  underneath 
a  large  engraving  of  her  father,  resplendent  in  the  robes 
of  his  order,  with  the  garter  round  his  knee.  It  was  not 
altogether  unpremeditated,  this  shielding  of  herself 
beneath  the  aegis  of  "Walter,  twenty-ninth  Earl  of 
Framlingham,  K.  G. ,"  and  much  more  besides.  Gode- 
froy  caught  the  significance.  He  compared  the  portrait 
with  the  living  face,  and  saw  in  both  the  same  haughty, 
high-bred  air,  which  gave  to  them  a  likeness,  though 
their  features  were  entirely  dissimilar. 

"Before  anything  else,"  he  began,  "I  must  convey 
to  you  Marshal  Brisson's  heartfelt  apologies." 

She  went  crimson,  but  did  not  stop  him. 


274  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  He  bids  me  express  his  very  deepest  regret,  though 
he  is  well  aware  that  he  can  never  hope  for  an  absolute 
pardon.  But  I  abase  myself  on  his  behalf.  Whatever 
reparation  Mademoiselle  suggests  shall  be  made.  So 
much  I  am  authorized  to  promise." 

"  It  would  have  been  better  not  to  have  recalled  this 
matter." 

Godefroy  began  to  think  so  too.  But  he  could  not 
now  draw  back.  "  Mademoiselle,"  he  implored,  stretch- 
ing out  both  hands,  "please  hear  me  out.  Figuratively, 
Marshal  Brisson  eats  the  dust  in  his  contrition.  Unless 
you  forgive  him,  he  declares  his  heart  never  will.  Unless 
you  forgive  him,  he  dies.  He  told  me  so  himself;  and  I 
know  him  of  old  to  be  a  man  of  his  word." 

"I  do  not  desire  to  hear  his  name  mentioned  again." 

"  But,  Mademoiselle,  won't  you  accept  this  offer? — 
Whenever  you  are  in  Paris,  he  will  leave  that  city,  as 
being  unworthy  to  breathe  the  same  air.  And  he  will 
remain  away  until  you  again  depart.  You  need  but  give 
me,  say,  two  days'  warning,  and  he  goes  within  the  forty- 
eight  hours,  whatever  be  his  duties,  or  however  great 
their  importance." 

She  could  not  hide  a  faint  smile.  From  this  point  of 
view  the  thing  seemed  so  absurd. 

"Possibly  Mademoiselle  would  prefer  some  other 
atonement?"  he  urged  with  anxious  eagerness.  "Let 
the  Marshal  but  know  of  it,  and  I  am  convinced  it  is  as 
good  as  done." 

"I  go  to  Paris  too  seldom,"  she  answered,  still 
smiling,  "  for  this  to  be  much  of  a  punishment." 

"You  cannot  mean  that  he  is  to  kill  himself?  "  the 
valet  implored.  "  Reflect,  dear  lady,  the  Minister  is  a 
useful  public  servant,  as  well  as  being  the  only  son  of  his 
mother." 

"  No,  no,"  she  laughed  outright;  "  he  may  live;  only 
do  not  say  any  more  about  him.  Don't  imagine  for  an 
instant  that  I  do  not  blame  myself  as  much  as  I  do  him: 
I  did  wrong  to  make  game  of  his  Majesty.  It  was  merely 
a  foolish,  schoolgirl  joke." 

"Am  I  to  take  it  that  Mademoiselle  cares  nothing  for 
Napoleon's  happiness?  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  275 

"  I  deny  your  right  to  link  his  name  with  mine,*'  she 
retorted  hotly.  "  I  freely  admit  I  have  played  with  fire. 
That  I  have  burnt  my  fingers,  can  need  no  admission. 
But  at  this  point,  Monsieur,  the  matter  must  end  for 
good  and  all.  I  desire  that  you  will  leave  me." 

Brave  words!  decided  enough  in  manner  and  in  sub- 
stance, but  Godefroy  was  convinced  that  he  could  detect 
in  them  the  flicker  of  a  dying  resistance.  He  flung  his 
last  card  upon  the  table.  Coming  a  single  step  nearer  to 
her  and  the  fireplace,  and  stretching  out  his  hat,  clasped 
tight  in  both  hands,  prayerfully  towards  her,  he  whispered: 

"  The  Emperor  loves  you  to  distraction.  I  know  it; 
I  am  his  valet.  Why  should  you  not  marry  him?  do  you 
forget  the  Countess  de  Teba?  " 

"The  Mendrilsare  far  above  the  Montijos, "  came  the 
beating  of  her  heart.  But  she  did  not  answer;  and  he, 
following  up  his  victory  now  half  won,  poured  out  a  pas- 
sionate tale  of  Napoleon's  love. 

According  to  his  faithful  servitor,  the  sovereign  of 
France  neither  ate,  slept,  nor  worked.  He  could  not  be 
said  even  to  live,  except  during  the  two  or  three  hours 
spent  at  eventide  beside  the  river  in  seeking  after — after 
Mademoiselle.  "  And  be  sure  of  this:  in  the  end  he  will 
marry  you.  I  knew  the  under-valet  to  Louis  Napoleon, 
and  I  declare  that  this  young  Emperor  has  a  tenacity  of 
purpose  far  greater  than  that  ever  possessed  by  his 
cousin,  or  indeed  suspected  by  any  one  connected  with 
him,  aye,  including  himself.  His  iron  will  is  hidden  under 
an  amiable  discursiveness,  especially  towards  ladies, 
which  many  mistake  for  weakness.  Believe  me,  Made- 
moiselle, sooner  or  later  he  will  marry  you,  whether  you 
like  it  or  not." 

Then,  without  giving  her  a  chance  of  repudiating  this 
confident  assertion,  Godefroy  hurried  on  to  more  vital 
matters.  This  dalliance  at  Meaux — he  had  full  authority 
for  what  he  was  saying — meant  a  terrible  danger  to  the 
Empire.  The  triple  alliance  hung,  a  much  overdue  thun- 
der-cloud, over  their  borders.  The  Emperor  had  been 
deceived,  in  his  ignorance  of  diplomatic  ways,  by  the  con- 
gratulations from  the  various  embassies.  He  was  march- 
ing daily  towards  the  edge  of  the  abyss. 


276  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  old  fellow  extracted  the 
only  sentence  from  Muriel  which  could  in  any  way  be 
construed  as  an  assent  to  his  scheming.  And  as  she 
uttered  it,  her  eyes  shone  with  a  curious  lustre. 

"  I,  for  one,  hope  that  we  may  soon  have  a  chance  of 
beating  Prussia." 

"Will  Mademoiselle  kindly  repeat?"  exclaimed  Gode- 
froy.  "  I  am  hard  of  hearing." 

"My  mother  is  French;"  she  blushed,  and  relapsed 
into  her  former  nervous  silence. 

"The  destinies  of  France,"  Godefroy  solemnly  re- 
turned, "are  in  Mademoiselle's  keeping.  In  every  way 
is  Mademoiselle  worthy  of  the  Emperor.  If  she  permits 
him  to  become  her  suitor,  and  at  once,  without  an  in- 
stant's delay,  uses  the  great  influence  she  will  thus  pos- 
sess, to  meet  the  storm  which  is  about  to  burst  over  us, 
all  may  yet  be  well.  If,  on  the  contrary,  she  shows  my 
master  that  she  is  a  prize  reserved  for  higher  hands," — 
he  bowed  to  cover  a  smile, — "  or  if,  worse  still,  she  per- 
sists in  making  fun  of  the  devotion  of  a  noble  heart,  in 
enchaining  a  brain  which  ought  to  be  perfectly  free  to 
guard  France,  then  Mademoiselle,  and  Mademoiselle 
alone,  must  bear  the  blame.  She  will  have  blotted  out 
her  mother's  nation  from  the  earth." 

He  bowed,  and  half  turned  toward  the  door. 

"Neither  the  Marshal  nor  I  intends  to  remember  that 
we  have  even  seen  you.  Mademoiselle,  adieu!  "  and  he 
bowed  once  more,  and  this  time  departed.  A  very  dif- 
ferent exit  to  Brisson's.  Yet  of  the  two  interviews,  this 
one  left  by  much  the  nastier  taste. 

He  had  put  his  suggestion  with  such  delicate  tact  that 
it  was  some  time  before  she  fully  grasped  the  depths  of 
its  enormity.  This  low-born  valet  had  dared  to  counsel 
her,  the  daughter  of  almost  a  hundred  earls,  to  entrap 
the  Emperor  and  seal  their  betrothal  with  the  sacrifice 
of  millions  of  lives?  The  thought  alone  was  monstrous; 
and,  worse  still,  her  silence  had  given  an  apparent  assent 
to  so  abominable  a  proposition. 

Such  an  apprehension  must  be  immediately  dispelled. 
She  rushed  to  her  escritoire  and  commenced  a  haughty 
impersonal  disclaimer,  which  would  have  amused  Code- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  277 

froy  very  much.  Presently  she  reflected  that  she  did  not 
know  the  miserable  creature's  name.  Besides — besides, 
the  Emperor  loved  her — that  point  no  man  could  gain- 
say. And  how  her  heart  yearned  for  the  ermine-bor- 
dered purple. 

So  she  tore  the  note  into  many  pieces.  Presently  she 
walked  once  more  to  the  fireplace;  and,  leaning  with 
both  her  elbows  upon  the  mantelpiece,  gazed  long  and 
earnestly  at  her  reflexion  in  the  mirror  of  its  marble 
ledge. 

"  The  Emperor  loves  you,"  said  she  under  her  breath. 
"You  can  see  so  much  for  yourself,  without  butlers  to 
tell  you.  Why  should  he  not  marry  you?  There  need 
be  no  plotting:  go  your  own  way  quietly,  and  if  he  seeks 
you  out,  let  him, — you  are  his  equal.  As  for  war,  my 
father  declares  that  Germany  might  any  day  burst  across 
the  frontier;  my  mother  is  always  sighing  for  the 
'revanche,' — there  can  be  no  harm,  his  knowing  what 
they  think." 

Her  eyes  wandered  to  a  faded  cabinet  group  leaning 
against  a  clock  that  did  not  go.  It  represented  the 
efforts  of  some  young  lady  friend  at  Tipton;  and  it  dis- 
closed the  family,  Fersen  among  them,  gathered  on  the 
lawn  before  Mendril  Court. 

"Oh,  Nicholas,"  she  murmured  plaintively,  "if  only 
you  were  more  determined." 


Chapter  V 


Godefroy  went  back  to  his  pantry,  certain  of  victory. 
The  fates  were  working  in  his  favour:  on  his  arrival  at 
the  Villa  Yvonne,  he  found  that  a  telegram  from  the 
War  Office  had  summoned  Brisson  to  Paris, — "which  will 
simplify  matters  very  much,"  he  muttered,  with  a  com- 
placent smile. 

It  was  Sunday,  and  the  eleventh  day  of  their  stay. 
Even  Napoleon  marked  the  flight  of  time.  The  calendar 
began  to  worry  him.  That,  among  many  other  things. 
He  turned  the  telltale  face  towards  the  wall;  but  he 
could  not  keep  his  mind  from  running  on  a  picture  of 
Brisson's  impatience,  or  the  reality  of  Godefroy's  glum 
demeanour.  So  his  morning  went  its  way  with  all  the 
rest;  though  he  might  have  been  a  trifle  less  torpid,  had 
he  known  how  the  two  gentlemen  mentioned  above  were 
spending  theirs.  And  the  valet's  appearance  to  an- 
nounce lunch,  came  as  an  agreeable  diversion. 

It  proved  also  somewhat  of  a  surprise.  The  man's 
face  was  wreathed  with  smiles.  A  change  indeed  from 
the  thunder-clouds  of  the  preceding  week. 

"Why,  Godefroy!  "  stared  his  Majesty,  "what  in  the 
world  has  come  to  you?  " 

"To  me,  sire?"  replied  Godefroy,  hastily  opening  his 
arms  and  gazing  down  the  front  of  his  waistcoat. 

"  Yes.     You  are  as  lively  as  a  cricket." 

"Oh,  the  beautiful  country  air  always  affects  me." 

"It  takes  time." 

"His  Majesty  is  right,  it  does  take  time.  But  it 
wins  in  the  end." 

"I  am  glad  that  it  has  won;  for  we  shall  soon  have 
to  be  gone  from  Paradise. 

The  other  opened  his  eyes. 
278 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  279 

"Yes,"  continued  Napoleon,  not  marking  this  exhi- 
bition of  surprise.  "There  is  a  council  of  ministers  at 
twelve  on  Wednesday,  besides  an  interview  afterwards 
with  Brisson  and  the  Commandant  of  Paris." 

"  But  General  Changarnier  comes  here  to-morrow. " 

"On  quite  separate  business.  See  to  a  train  about 
nine  Tuesday." 

Godefroy  bowed,  and  turned  in  silence  to  the  Em- 
peror's Beaune. 

"His  late  Majesty,"  he  said  presently,  dusting  the 
mouth  of  the  bottle,  "never  spent  anytime  in  the  coun- 
try without  at  least  one  small  dinner-party.  It  forms 
little  nests  of  partisans  in  various  widely  distant  neigh- 
bourhoods. " 

Napoleon  started.  Godefroy  imperturbably  extracted 
the  last  speck  of  cork. 

"And  both  he  and  the  Empress  always  liked  to  have 
people  round  them.  Now  I  could  manage  a  small  affair 
for  to-morrow  night.  The  Grand  Chamberlain  and 
General  Changarnier  will  be  here  in  the  morning." 

"Do  as  you  please,"  drawled  Napoleon;  "you 
have  forgotten  the  seltzer — thanks;  do  as  you  please. " 

Godefroy  did  as  he  pleased,  and  in  consequence  spent 
an  exceedingly  busy  afternoon.  He  issued  invitations 
to  Monsieur  Verre  and  Madame,  to  the  Mayor  and  his 
good  lady,  and  last,  though  not  least,  to  the  Earl  and 
Countess  of  Framlingham,  Lord  Mendril,  and  the  Lady 
Muriel  Mendril.  De  Morin  and  Changarnier  would  com- 
plete the  number.  Prince  Felix  Bonaparte  might  possi- 
bly make  a  twelfth.  He  had  already  thrown  his  shadow 
before  him  in  the  shape  of  a  post-card  directed  to  his 
cousin,  asking  for  a  few  days'  invitation  "to  your 
charming  little  box,  which  I  hear  is  replete  with  every 
convenience.  My  health  needs  change:  Auteuil  is  re- 
laxing, and  contains  no  restaurants." 

The  following  morning  Napoleon  took  on  his  lawn  in 
the  enjoyment  of  a  little  unconcealed  idleness.  It  was 
very  peaceful  out  of  doors;  and  he  was  all  the  more 
contented  and  tranquil,  as  he  lay  sunning  himself,  be- 
cause he  had  definitely  chosen  peace.  The  resolve  had 
come  to  him  by  easy  stages,  but  it  was  none  the  less 


280  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

firmly  fixed.  And  one  of  his  reasons  for  this  forenoon 
spent  al  fresco  was  to  rehearse  the  speech  wherewith 
to  communicate  the  decision  to  his  ministers  the  follow- 
ing Wednesday. 

"Yes,"  he  meditated,  "  I  shall  make  the  statement 
on  that  day.  If  they  do  n't  like  it,  they  may  go.  They 
won't  like  it;  Brisson  will  influence  them,  and  Carache 
is  so  weak.  They  won't  find  me  very  docile.  Indeed, 
now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  this  is  a  favourable  opportunity 
to  get  rid  of  the  old  gang.  I  '11  dismiss  Carache,  and 
get — get — oh,  well,  there  are  plenty  of  ex-premiers  avail- 
able. I  can  consult  Godefroy. " 

The  Grand  Chamberlain  broke  in  upon  his  reveries 
all  too  soon.  The  old  gentleman  came  trotting  across 
the  lawn  long  before  lunch-time.  Napoleon  noticed  he 
looked  strangely  perturbed. 

"  Dear  master,"  he  burst  out,  so  soon  as  he  had  got- 
ten himself  a  comfortable  chair,  and  a  promising  cigar 
from  Bonaparte's  box,  "I  have  had  the  most  surprising 
adventure. " 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  other,  looking  at  the  cigar. 

"The  most  surprising  adventure,"  De  Morin  re- 
peated. He  rather  fancied  his  powers  of  narration, 
and  settled  himself  down  to  a  pleasant  half-hour. 

"You  have  heard  me  mention  the  De  Murinacs?  "  he 
commenced,  after  a  decorous  interval.  His  nephew 
started;  and  the  old  fellow,  without  waiting  for  a  verbal 
answer,  went  gaily  forward. 

"  And  if  you  have  n't,  it  does  not  mean  that  I  am 
not  continually  recalling  their  memory.  Old  Gustave 
de  Murinac  was  the  greatest  friend  I  ever  had,  besides 
being  the  noblest  character  the  Lord  ever  created.  We 
lived  next  door  to  one  another  in  the  Avenue  des  Villiers 
for  many,  many  years.  That  was  in  the  sixties,  about 
the  time  when  your  dear  father  first  came  to  seek  his 
fortunes  in  Paris.  All  Gustave's  children  loved  me  as  an 
uncle.  There  were  hordes  of  them,  I  remember, — poor 
Paul,  the  eldest,  and  Louis,  and  Claire,  and  Victor,  and 
Henriette,  with  whom  my  surprising  adventure  is  con- 
cerned. You  must  know,  Gustave,  who  was  for  a  long 
time  a  great  power  at  court,  had  a  quarrel  with  your 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  281 

cousin  some  few  months  before  the  war.  He  shut  up 
his  town  house,  and  carted  furniture  and  wife  and  chil- 
dren and  underlinen  to  his  estates  in  the  Champagne. 
He  and  I  never  met  again.  I  got  news  of  poor  Paul's 
death  at  Sedan,  of  Gustave's  own  demise  a  year  or  so 
later,  and  of  his  daughter  Henriette's  marriage  about 
the  same  time.  I  heard  that  the  bridegroom  was  a  cer- 
tain Lord  Mendril,  nothing  further.  And  so  this  whole 
group  of  loved  ones  sank  altogether  out  of  my  horizon." 

The  Emperor  had  gone  hot  and  cold  by  turns  during 
this  recital.  But  the  Chamberlain  seemed  so  frank  and 
straightforward,  he  could  not  doubt  him.  So  bit  by  bit 
he  recovered  his  composure,  without,  however,  daring 
to  indulge  in  any  comments. 

"To-day,  in  the  train  from  Paris,  I  met  an  English 
milord  and  his  young  son.  We  got  into  conversation. 
Something  about  the  boy's  face  and  in  his  voice  re- 
minded me — of  I  know  not  what.  I  say  to  him,  '  My 
dear  young  friend,  have  I  not  seen  you  before?  I  recol- 
lect your  face  perfectly? '  He  laughs.  '  No,  Monsieur,' 
he  says,  '  I  fancy  not. '  '  What  is  your  name,  dear 
young  sir? '  I  rejoin.  He  tells  me  Walter  Mendril.  It 
means  nothing  to  me;  for  I  am  not  then  thinking  of 
Henriette  de  Murinac.  His  father  also  tells  me  his 
name;  he  is  Lord  Framlingham.  'Very  strange,'  I 
mutter.  At  Meaux,  I  am  waiting  in  the  station  porch 
for  my  luggage,  when  my  attention  is  attracted  by  a 
beautiful  lady,  who  keeps  walking  round  and  round  me, 
gazing  intently  at  me  all  the  while.  Her  face  also  is 
familiar.  I  feel  sure  that  she  and  Walter  Mendril  are 
mother  and  son.  But  why  their  faces  should  be  familiar 
to  me  I  cannot  tell;  for  I  am  not  then  thinking  of  Hen- 
riette de  Murinac." 

"The  whole  thing  is  very  curious, "  yawned  Napo- 
leon. "  Uncle,  you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  I  do 
not  mean  to  fight." 

"I  am  pleased.  But,  dear  nephew,  let  me  finish. 
The  lady  at  last  ventures  to  address  me.  '  Pardon  me, 
Monsieur;  lam  sure  I  know  your  face.'  'Madame,  I 
was  about  to  say  the  same  to  you. '  '  Pardon  me,  Mon- 
sieur; what  is  your  name?'  'I  am  Louis  de  Morin, 


282  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Grand  Chamberlain  to  his  Majesty.'  She  gives  a  great 
shriek  of  joy,  'I  am  Henriette  de  Murinac. '  We  em- 
brace. Her  son  appears  at  that  moment.  He  does  not 
look  at  all  pleased.  '  Father  and  Muriel  are  walking 
home  by  the  fields,'  he  says  curtly.  His  mother  tells 
him  who  I  am,  and  he  unbends  a  little.  The  three  of  us 
drive  out  together.  The  dear  creature  tells  me  all  her 
history  since  our  last  meeting  in  seventy.  She  is  a  great 
English  lady  now.  She  has  three  children,  a  girl  and 
two  boys.  And  she  tells  me  that  her  eldest,  Walter,  was 
your  bosom  friend  at  Oxford.  Is  that  so?  " 

"Yes,"  Napoleon  assented. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it  as  a  strange  coinci- 
dence? Just  picture  it  in  your  own  mind! — my  word, 
those  weary,  wasted  years!  " 

"I  have  never  heard  anything  stranger,"  drawled  his 
Majesty.  "You  understand,  I  do  not  mean  to  fight." 

"  I  understand." 

"  I  shall  tell  the  Council  so  on  Wednesday.  You  will 
be  present." 

"I  am  flattered  by  your  summons."  And  presently 
De  Morin  trotted  off  to  repeat  his  surprising  adventure 
to  Godefroy  in  the  pantry,  where  perhaps  he  found  out 
that  it  was  even  more  curious  than  he  originally  sup- 
posed. 

The  second  visitor,  the  bluff  Changarnier,  arrived 
later  in  the  day.  Napoleon  really  could  not  stand  his 
breezy  manner  and  bad  language  (both  of  which  were 
assumed  to  hide  a  heart  as  black  as  ink),  so  he  hid  him- 
self in  his  study  until  such  time  as  it  was  necessary  to 
shave  and  dress. 

Seven  o'clock  found  the  guests  assembled  in  the  white 
enamelled-wood  apartment  which  served  as  reception- 
room  upon  these  occasions.  De  Morin  tripped  about  in 
all  directions,  welcoming  them  with  great  urbanity. 

"  Mesdames  are  admiring  the  apartment?"  said  he, 
stealing  up  with  pretty  playfulness  to  where  Madame 
Verre  and  the  Mayor's  good  lady  stood  critically  exam- 
ining their  surroundings,  dead  and  alive. 

"Indeed,  Monsieur,"  replied  the  former  of  the  two, 
"we  are  doing  nothing  of  the  kind.  Certainly,  the  pur- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  283 

pie  curtains  harmonize  well  with  the  white  panelling. 
The  Corots,  too,  with  their  thin  gold  frames,  are  charm- 
ing. But  surely  salmon-coloured  silk  is  not  the  right 
material  for  the  furniture.  Besides,  who  in  the  world 
uses  lamps?  You  want  the  electric  light.  Believe  me, 
my  dear  Count,  we  do  this  sort  of  thing  better  in  the 
Avenue  de  Marigny. " 

"  Without  doubt.  Madame,  however,  must  give  us 
time,"  and  he  ambled  gaily  off  to  Monsieur  Verre,  who 
was  examining  one  of  the  Corots  in  question  with  all  the 
airs  and  graces  of  a  connoisseur. 

From  the  Minister,  Monsieur  de  Morin  made  his  way 
to  the  Mayor.  That  dignitary  stood  conversing  with  the 
Earl  of  Framlingham  upon  the  topic  of  soup-kitchens 
for  Meaux,  a  matter  which,  his  lordship  was  careful  to 
state  not  infrequently,  the  Countess  had  very  much  at 
heart. 

"As  a  girl,"  said  he,  placidly  solemn,  "her  inclina- 
tions were  strongly  benevolent.  Her  father,  the  late 
Monsieur  de  Murinac — as  you,  Monsieur,  will  doubtless 
remember — was  the  founder  of  your  Paul  Charity ;  indeed, 
it  is  named  after  my  wife's  brother,  who  died  at  Sedan. 
The  Countess  feels  that  similar  institutions  might  be  set 
up  with  advantage  in  other  parts  of  the  town.  Now  at 
home,  we — ah,  Monsieur  de  Morin,  how  do  you  do?" 

His  wife  had  already  told  him  about  their  curious 
meeting.  And  as,  in  his  heart  of  hearts,  he  did  not 
think  great  beer  of  her  belongings,  he  did  not  quite 
know  what  sort  of  treatment  to  employ  to  this  old  friend 
of  other  days.  As  a  chance  acquaintance  he  had  not 
cared  for  the  Chamberlain  overmuch. 

"  Is  my  dear  Henriette  here?  " 

"Lady  Framlingham  is  seated  yonder." 

"Good.  And  Muriel" — the  kind  old  fellow  was 
making  up  for  lost  time — "and  Walter?" 

"  My  daughter  is  here.  My  eldest  son  has  unfortu- 
nately left  again  for  Paris,  but  we  have  brought — we 
have  brought — ah,  we  have  brought  Charles,"  and  my 
lord's  eye  wandered  uneasily  to  where  "Charles,"  the 
sallow  and  debased  edition  of  himself,  sat  in  the  com- 
pany of  his  wife  and  daughter. 


284  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"Delightful,"  murmured  De  Morin;  "his  Majesty 
will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  you  have  brought  dear 
Charles.  Now  I  have  seen  the  three.  My  word,  how 
she  resembles  her  grandfather.  Forgive  me,  my  lord, 
I  must  go  and  speak  with  my  long-lost  Henriette.  To 
think  of  it!  all  these  weary,  weary  years!  " 

But  Prince  Felix  and  Changarnier,  both  of  whom 
were  also  discussing  soup-kitchens,  kept  him  from  his 
pleasure. 

"Come  here,  you  old  fox,"  grunted  his  Highness,  as 
the  little  Chamberlain  tried  to  steal  by  under  the  lee  of 
the  great  leviathan;  "come  here  and  answer  my  ques- 
tion. How  long  are  we  to  wait  for  Parchments?  " 

"Hush,  your  Highness,  I  beg — " 

"  Don't  presume  to  dictate,  sir,"  mumbled  the  Prince. 
"I  am  dying — perishing,  I  tell  you,  from  inanition. 
Except  for  a  pint  of  cherry  brandy,  I  have  n't  touched  a 
morsel  of  food  since  I  left  Auteuil.  My  word,  Changar- 
nier, she  can  make  it,  and  no  mistake.  She  got  the 
receipt  from  her  convent  in  Malmo.  She  lives  in  a  con- 
vent, 'you  know,  when  she  's  at  home.  Chamberlain, 
do  n't  try  and  get  away.  We  want  Parchments,  and  we 
won't  let  you — " 

"  Here  is  his  Majesty,"  cried  De  Morin,  hurrying  off, 
as  he  spoke,  towards  the  small,  side  door  which  led  into 
Napoleon's  study.  It  was  flung  open  before  he  could 
reach  it.  He  halted  at  once,  and  with  closed  eyes  and 
a  sublime  dignity  announced:  "His  Majesty  the  Em- 
peror." 

Napoleon  advanced,  all  smiles.  His  ease  and  com- 
posure would  not  have  disgraced  a  Hapsburg.  Madame 
Verre  was  especially  charmed.  As  wife  of  a  present 
Minister,  she  followed  Prince  Felix,  and  it  greatly  in- 
creased her  delight. 

"Why  not  more  often  at  the  Elysee?  "  the  Emperor 
genially  inquired.  "  I  shall  commence  to  think  that  you 
have  forgotten  old  days." 

"  This,"  the  lady  remarked  later  on  to  the  Mayoress, 
"is  decisive.  The  death  sentence  of  the  Carache- 
Brisson  combination  is  signed.  Verre  becomes  Prime 
Minister." 


THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON  285 

"Verre, "  she  added,  later  still,  and  in  another  place, 
"you  resign,  first  thing  to-morrow  morning." 

The  Countess  of  Framlingham  followed  Madame 
Verre.  She  ought  to  have  gone  before.  In  her  turn, 
my  lady  presented  Muriel.  She  did  so  in  a  short  and 
perfunctory  manner,  verging  on  disrespect.  Clearly,  in 
her  opinion,  the  girl  counted  for  little  upon  these  occa- 
sions. The  Earl  watched  this  scene  with  considerable 
annoyance.  True,  he  had  long  given  up  looking  for  the 
manners  of  a  Mendril  in  a  De  Murinac;  but  he  did  feel 
that  twenty-six  years  of  married  life  ought  to  have  sub- 
dued some  of  her  ladyship's  brusqueries.  How  different 
Muriel.  Her  calmness  under  trying  circumstances — this 
was  the  first  time  she  had  been  presented  to  a  monarch 
— slightly  allayed  his  irritation.  "That  will  do,"  he 
murmured,  "if  only  she  is  like  that  at  Buckingham 
Palace." 

The  girl's  self-possession  was  remarkable.  Her  eyes 
met  the  Emperor's,  and  they  had  in  them  not  the  glim- 
mer of  a  recognition.  The  moment  which  she  had  dreaded 
the  whole  twenty-four  hours  foregoing  was  here  at  last. 
It  found  her  absolutely  unconcerned. 

On  Napoleon's  side  the  first  emotion  was  one  of  dis- 
appointment. Here  in  the  drawing-room,  with  her  hair 
well  brushed  off  her  face  and  tightly  set  in  unbraided 
coils  upon  her  head,  and  in  evening  dress,  she  looked 
a  different  being  to  the  careless  schoolgirl  of  the  river- 
side. The  change — at  least,  he  thought  so  at  first — 
served  only  to  make  her  insignificant.  But  this  impres- 
sion soon  passed  away.  She  sat  silent  through  th\_  A^hole 
of  dinner,  and  before  they  rose  the  process  of  forging 
chains  for  his  absolute  enslavement  was  once  again  in 
full  working  order.  It 's  work  was  nearly  done. 

Without  daring  to  glance  at  her,  except  at  infrequent 
intervals,  and  then  only  en  passant — for  monarchs 
seated  at  oval  tables  must  walk  warily — he  felt  her 
presence  as  a  subtle  essence  through  his  frame.  Her 
silence  heightened  the  spell;  it  seemed  to  him  that  she 
must  be  marking  his  every  utterance,  watching  him  with 
wide,  open  eyes,  which  had  not  as  yet  clearly  grasped  the 
secret  of  his  growing  passion.  Not  that  this  self-con- 


2S6  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

sciousness  displayed  itself  either  in  his  words  or  manner. 
He  treated  his  neighbours  with  an  easy  condescension, 
which  converted  Madame  Verre's  former  pleasure  into 
very  present  ecstasy,  while  it  was  not  without  effect  upon 
the  Honourable  Charles,  who  sat  on  the  Emperor's  left, — 
the  Alpha  and  the  Omega  of  the  feast  thus  coming  side 
by  side — and  who  felt  surprise  to  find  himself  visited 
with  an  unconquerable  shyness  in  the  presence  of  this 
semi-foreign  potentate. 

With  all  his  brother's  haughty  bearing,  this  young 
fellow  lacked  the  others  handsome  face.  He  had  a  suf- 
ficient likeness  to  his  father  to  make  him  ask  in  what 
ugly  mood  he  was  begotten.  Most  large  families,  patri- 
cian as  well,  rejoice  in  such  a  member. 

"  Were  you  at  either  university?  "  the  Emperor  said, 
kindly,  and  in  English. 

"Oxford,  sire." 

"  Ah,  no  doubt  at  the  same  college  as  your  brother?  " 

"Yes,  Christ  Church." 

"I  was  at  Magdalen." 

The  young  fellow  murmured  "  Indeed,"  then  relapsed 
into  silence,  more  and  more  disgusted  with  this  unwonted 
dumbness.  He  wanted  to  launch  out  upon  an  easy,  yet 
brilliant,  account  of  the  university  wherein  he  had  played 
for  four  years  no  inconsiderable  part.  Alas,  he  could 
not,  so  Majesty  very  kindly  started  a  new  topic. 

"Have  you  any  profession?  You  are  at  the  bar, 
perhaps?  " 

"We  do  not  go  to  the  bar.  I  am  destined  " — with  a 
nervous  laugh,  and  a  not  altogether  pleasant  look  across 
the  table  at  my  lord — "for  the  diplomatic  service.  I 
should  much  prefer  to  enter  Parliament.  Public  speak- 
ing is  at  low  ebb  just  now  in  England;  there  is  plenty 
of  room.  I  shall,  by  and  by,  when — when — "  and  the 
lowering  glance  once  again  settled  upon  the  ex-ambas- 
sadorial countenance. 

"When?  "  Napoleon  asked  absently. 

The  boy  mumbled  something  under  his  breath.  His 
host  continued,  a  curious  smile  flitting  across  his  face: 

"Ought  you  not  to  be  at  home,  nursing  some  con- 
stituency? We  do  not  seem  far  off  a  dissolution." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  287 

"Oh,"  replied  Charles,  dropping  his  voice,  "those 
things  don't  affect  me.  Eventually  —  eventually  —  " 
then  with  a  desperate  dash,  "I  shall  get  the  Honiton 
division  later  on.  Walter  is  playing  with  it  at  present. 
Beastly  mean  of  him,  I  call  it;  he  has  the  title.  Well, 
he  will  soon  find  out  that  the  letters  don't  make  the 
orator.  Then  comes  my  chance." 

"  Lucky  young  man, "  murmured  the  other.  The  smile 
still  hovered  about  his  mouth.  "  If  I  had  had  even  the 
tenth  part  of  your  prospects,  I  should  never  have  come  to 
France."  And  this  was  the  only  chance  he  ever  took  of 
paying  off  old  scores.  He  enjoyed  it  very  much.  He 
turned  back  to  Madame  Verre.  She  was  discussing  Paris 
with  Felix.  The  Prince  did  not  in  the  least  comprehend 
her  harangues;  he  usually  approached  the  city  from 
quite  another  road.  Both  were  glad  of  Napoleon's  in- 
tervention. 

"What  I  want,  your  Majesty,"  cried  the  lady,  her 
eyes  still  closed  from  too  much  Felix,  "is  to  seethe 
Faubourg  St.  Honore  straightened,  even  though  it  be  at 
the  expense  of  the  barracks  in  the  Rue  de  Penthievre. 
Another  crying  grievance,  to  my  mind,  are  such  dirty 
little  streets  as  the  Rue  Boissy  d'Anglas  and  the  Rue  de 
Richelieu.  They  might  do  for  the  suburbs;  in  a  good 
quarter  they  are  a  disgrace!" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  groaned  Felix.  "The  Rue  de 
Richelieu  is  a  pleasant  enough  street.  I  have  had  many 
happy  nights — I  should  say,  mornings  there." 

"Madame  forgets,"  Napoleon  put  in  hastily,  "that 
the  memory  of  Boissy  d'Anglas  has  an  especial  claim 
upon  my  family." 

"  No,  I  do  not  forget.  Surely  you  will  honour  it 
more  by  a  wide  boulevard,  which  shall  connect  the  Bou- 
levard Haussman  with  the  Place  de  la  Concorde." 

"Haussman,"  Felix  commenced  afresh,  "was  the 
curse  of  Paris.  Many  a  little  nook — "  Napoleon  heard 
no  more.  He  was  watching  Muriel,  this  time  without 
the  least  attempt  at  concealment.  In  taking  one  of  his 
periodical  surveys  of  the  company,  made  that  he  might 
rest  his  yearning  gaze  for  one  unsatisfied  second  upon  her 
face,  he  caught  therein  a  look  of  intense  agitation  pass- 


288  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

ing  hurriedly,  like  a  light  cloud  before  high  wind  in  sum- 
mer-time. What  could  it  be?  He  wondered  greatly. 
Certainly  no  word  uttered  by  either  of  her  neighbours,  for 
at  the  moment  Godefroy  was  holding  a  dish  of  ice-pud- 
ding before  her. 

He  continued  to  watch  her,  long  after  her  face  had 
resumed  its  usual  calm.  Madame  Verre  tried  vainly  to 
bring  him  back  to  Paris.  Cousin  Felix  smiled  dully  at 
him  over  Madame's  head,  striving  to  interest  him  in 
Auteuil  and  the  Swedish  nation;  even  Charles  hazarded 
a  guttural  sentence.  Their  well-meant  seed  was  scat- 
tered upon  rocks.  He  heard  nothing  and  saw  nothing, 
save  the  pale  face  that  was  searing  its  every  line  into  his 
heart.  He  woke  with  a  start,  to  find  Godefroy  wetting 
his  ear  with  hot  breath  in  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  tell 
him  that  he  ought  to  make  a  move. 

He  recovered  himself  in  the  drawing-room,  where  he 
wandered  quite  unconstrained  and  self-possessed  among 
his  guests.  He  listened  smilingly  in  turn  to  Monsieur 
Verre's  hearty  effusiveness,  to  the  Mayor's  drawling 
common  sense,  to  the  bluff  Changarnier,  and  to  the  Earl's 
veiled  condescension. 

"  Over  in  England,"  said  the  last-named,"  people  are 
talking  about  an  Imperial  visit.  We  have  not  forgotten 
the  formerly  existing  friendship  between  your  cousin  and 
her  gracious  Majesty." 

"  Nor  have  I,  your  Lordship  may  be  sure.  And  your 
beautiful  England  has  other  claims  upon  me." 

"Your  Majesty  is  personally  acquainted  with  our 
royal  family?  " 

"No.  You  see,  Lord  Framlingham,  a  poor  lawyer 
living  in  lodgings  has  not  much  opportunity." 

"Ah,  yes,  I  forgot." 

"  Are  you  staying  here  for  any  length  of  time?  " 

"Probably  till  the  end  of  October." 

"I  trust  we  shall  meet  again  ";  they  bowed,  and  Na- 
poleon resumed  his  rounds.  And  so  he  at  last  achieved 
his  object,  and  reached  Paradise  by  process  of  this  semi- 
regal  progress  across  the  white  drawing-room.  Alas, 
he  was  allowed  only  the  merest  glimpse  of  the  celestial 


THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON  289 

regions.  The  Countess  and  her  daughter  were  together 
and  by  themselves  in  a  remote  corner.  Prince  Felix  had 
just  left  them,  and  they  were  slowly  recovering  in  silence. 
The  illustrious  lady — if  it  may  be  permitted  to  give  a  sec- 
ond description  of  a  beautiful  thing — was  small  and  dark, 
with  raven-black  hair  surmounted  by  a  superb  coronet, 
and  a  dazzling  skin  that  showed  the  remainder  of  her 
jewels  to  perfection.  Twenty-six  years'  daily  intercourse 
with  her  noble  husband  had  but  succeeded  in  covering 
with  the  thinnest  veneer  of  solemn  "  great  ladyship  "  her 
inborn  vivacity.  The  result  was  often  curious.  Sitting 
serious  and  still,  and  haughtily  reserved,  with  now  and 
then  a  solemn  monosyllable  in  guarded  accents, — lo!  on  a 
sudden,  something  exciting  her,  she  would  burst  into  a 
torrent  of  lively  French,  with  laughter  or  anger  (as  the 
occasion  demanded)  writ  large  upon  her  face,  and  espe- 
cially in  the  dark  eyes,  which  alone,  at  times,  showed 
those  first  signs  of  weariness  that  come  from  forty  years 
upon  the  earth. 

Napoleon  put  out  a  hand  to  prevent  them  from  rising. 
His  first  words  concerned  Madame's  health.  She  had 
been  ill,  he  had  heard. 

''Only  slightly,"  she  answered,  with  eyes  half  closed 
and  a  general  air  of  well-bred  weariness. 

"This  is  Madame's  native  town?  " 

"Almost,  sire,"  still  subdued,  severely  subdued. 

"You  must  love  the  place." 

She  flung  her  repose  to  the  four  winds.  "You  are 
right.  I  suppose  by  now  I  am  an  Englishwoman,"  and 
she  pouted  prettily;  "  but  my  heart  will  never  desert  our 
beautiful  'Pays  Meldois.'1 

"And  Mademoiselle,  is  she  as  enthusiastic?"  He 
spoke  with  harshness,  obstinately  averting  his  gaze. 
And  her  demeanour  made  faithful  copy. 

"  I  am  English." 

"Muriel,  do  not  be  rude,"  snapped  out  Madame. 
"Your  Majesty  must  forgive  her;  she  is  a  child." 

"I,  too,  have  something  English  in  me,"  he  softly 
rejoined,  still  without  looking. 

Matrons,   like   great  men,   have   no   country.     Lady 


290  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Framlingham  cast  a  keen  glance  at  his  face.  She  began 
to  think  that  Muriel,  after  all,  might  not  be  so  out  of  place 
upon  this  occasion. 

At  this  moment  the  Grand  Chamberlain  approached 
the  group.  He  divided  a  low  bow  among  the  three  of 
them,  begging  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  interrupt 
their  charming  conversation.  Napoleon  followed  him 
to  one  side. 

"  It  is  close  upon  ten,"  he  whispered,  "  and  some  of 
the  guests  have  far  to  drive.  No  one  can  leave  the  room 
before  your  Majesty  has  withdrawn." 

"Oh." 

"  Possibly  your  Majesty  is  on  the  point  of  retiring?  " 

The  Emperor  looked  disconsolately  at  this  smiling 
disturber  of  his  pleasure.  Then,  turning  back  to  re- 
enter  Paradise,  saw  that  the  Earl  of  Framlingham  and 
the  Honourable  Charles  had  anticipated  him.  The 
former  nobleman  was  examining  his  watch  with  uncon- 
cealed solicitude. 

"Ah,  yes,"  sighed  impotent  Majesty,  "I  forgot." 

He  slipped  away  unnoticed,  and  sat  him  down  beside 
his  writing-desk,  his  head  upon  his  arms,  his  eyes  mutely 
reproaching  the  little  door  tunnelled  through  the  book- 
case, covering  the  partition  wall  which  cut  him  off  from 
his  beloved.  He  could  hear  the  murmur  of  their  voices. 
How  he  cursed  the  harsh  etiquette  which  forced  such  a 
withdrawal  on  him.  His  frame  of  mind  resembled  that 
of  some  apprentice  who  listens  "outside  "  to  the  silence 
of  an  unapproachable  enchantress.  In  the  same  way  he 
heard  every  word  which  Muriel  did  not  utter;  and  in  the 
same  way  he  yearned  to  cross  the  intervening  gulf.  Yet 
he  was  a  great  Emperor,  too  important  by  far  to  be  left 
behind  in  his  own  drawing-room. 

A  stray  gust  blew  open  the  window  beside  his  chair. 
The  sound  roused  him;  he  crossed  the  threshold  to  the 
balcony.  There,  along  to  the  left,  the  unshuttered 
drawing-room  shed  its  light  upon  the  latticed  iron  and 
the  moving  trees.  The  temptation  was  sore  upon  him 
to  creep  up  and  get  one  more  sight  of  the  face,  whose 
picture  constant  calling  had  made  it  hard  for  him  to 
summon. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  291 

Truly  the  gods  were  very  good  to  him.  Presently 
the  handle  of  the  nearest  divine  casement  clicked,  the 
glass  doors  were  opened  inwards,  and  the  Honourable 
Charles  led  his  sister  into  the  cool  night  air. 

"Ah,"  she  murmured,  giving  a  little  sigh  of  relief, 
"this  is  better.  The  heat  was  quite  intolerable." 

"You  girls,"  said  the  Honourable  Charles,  "seem  to 
me  to  be  always  fainting.  You  make  a  feature  of  your 
nerves." 

She  was  leaning  against  the  iron  balustrade.  Her 
eyes  wandered  over  the  dim  mass  of  swaying  foliage  that 
lay  beneath  them.  Her  thoughts  were  busy  with  some- 
thing far  more  profitable  than  the  Honourable  Charles. 

The  Emperor  meanwhile  had  withdrawn  into  the  far- 
ther shadows.  Eavesdropping  was  not  one  of  his  accom- 
plishments; but  he  could  not  tear  himself  away. 

"Rum  chap,  our  host,"  resumed  the  Honourable 
Charles.  "  His  bearing  and  all  that  are  unimpeachable; 
but  the  touch  of  the  Temple  lingers  about  him  still." 

"  Charles,"  said  she  coldly,  "please  run  in  and  let 
them  know  where  we  are.  The  carriage  may  come  any 
minute. " 

Chivalry  was  the  tradition  of  their  house.  The  Hon- 
ourable Charles  departed  with  a  growl ;  while  she  was 
left  alone  amid  the  minglings  of  light  and  darkness. 

It  was  an  opportunity  which  no  erring  mortal  could 
resist.  He  moved  towards  her;  and  she,  without  turn- 
ing, felt  his  presence. 

"Is  it  not  shameful?  "  he  began,  taking  her  attitude 
against  the  railing,  when  about  two  yards  distant,  "to 
be  sent  to  bed  like  a  naughty  little  boy!  " 

"It  is  the  penalty  of  greatness." 

She  was  once  again  the  unconcerned  acquaintance  of 
the  river-side,  treating  him  as  carelessly  as  she  would 
have  done  the  merest  companion.  It  was  the  treatment 
yearned  for  of  his  heart;  sweet  indeed  did  it  come  to  him 
after  the  ceremony  within. 

"  What  have  you  been  talking  about,  since  I  left?  " 

"  About  you  and  your  policy." 

He  tried  to  copy  her  refreshing  directness.  "  May  I 
ask  what  conclusions  you  came  to? " 


292  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"None  at  all." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  tell  me  what  part  of  my  policy 
was  under  discussion." 

"Foreign  affairs.  General  Changarnier  maintained 
that  you  ought  to  fight  the  Germans,  while  the  Mayor 
said  no." 

"And  the  Count  de  Morin? "  asked  Napoleon,  open- 
ing his  eyes. 

"  He  had  left  the  room  with  Prince  Felix  and  the 
Verres.  Otherwise — " 

"Otherwise  you  would  not  have  indulged  in  so  indis- 
creet a  conversation." 

"  Exactly.  General  Changarnier  started  it.  My 
father  looked  scandalized,  and  refused  to  take  any  part. " 

"I  should  have  expected  it  of  him.  And  you, 
Mademoiselle,  what  do  you  think  about  it?  " 

"  About  Changarnier's  indiscretion?  " 

"  No,  about  the  war?  "  he  would  have  dearly  loved  to 
edge  a  shade  closer,  but  he  dare  not. 

"I,"  she  answered  carelessly,  "  I  have  no  opinion." 

"  Do  you  not  think  that  peace  is  wiser?  "  he  per- 
sisted. 

"  How  beautifully  the  light  falls  upon  the  trees." 

"  Tell  me.      I  beg  you  for  your  opinion. " 

"I  am  afraid  I  do  not.  Of  course,"  she  went  on 
hastily,  as  she  turned  and  saw  the  blank  look  of  despair 
stealing  over  the  Emperor's  face,  "  I  do  no  more  than 
repeat  what  my  father  says." 

"  What  does  he  say?  " 

"If  you  really  must  know, — that  in  your  place  he 
would  not  endure  a  peace  which  is  merely  on  suffer- 
ance." 

"Oh,  Mademoiselle!" 

"There,  I  hate  these  foolish  politics.  Sentiment  and 
honour,  in  my  view,  alone  should  govern  such  ques- 
tions," she  said  in  a  strangely  halting  voice. 

"  And  what  does  honour  enjoin?  "  he  whispered. 

"We  English  are  different,"  with  a  constraint  that 
was  visibly  increased. 

"  Pardon  me." 

"Well,  if  we  had  lost  the  two  provinces,  we  should 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  293 

not  be  content  with  the  'permanence  of  aspirations.' 
There  is  my  father  looking  for  me.  Good-night,  your 
Majesty."  With  a  careless  nod  which  increased  her 
charm  to  him,  and  wiped  away  the  last  trace  of  chagrin 
caused  by  her  words,  she  disappeared  into  his  drawing- 
room,  whither  he  might  not  follow. 


Chapter  VI 


The  Board  of  Green  Cloth  at  the  Elysee  stood  in  a 
chamber  communicating,  by  means  of  a  long  passage, 
with  the  Emperor's  library.  The  Council  table  had  been 
newly  covered  since  the  commencement  of  the  reign, 
and  the  whole  room  refurnished,  but  the  collective  wis- 
dom of  the  nine  or  ten  gentlemen  therein  assembled, 
from  time  to  time,  did  not  shine  much  brighter  than  in 
days  of  yore.  At  least,  so  thought  De  Morin,  who  lost 
no  opportunity  of  airing  this  opinion  ;  although  his  sneers 
may  well  have  arisen  from  the  fact  that  he  had  no  part 
in  their  deliberations.  To-day,  however,  he  was  to  be 
present  by  the  Emperor's  direct  summons.  And  he 
strutted  through  the  great  folding-doors  which  led  into 
the  room  from  the  Minister's  vestibule,  a  smile  of  in- 
tense satisfaction  flickering  over  his  pale  face. 

He  found  the  full  Cabinet  assembled.  Carache,  Min- 
ister of  State,  advanced  to  meet  him. 

"Executive  business,"  said  the  latter,  bowing  po- 
litely, whilst  laying  the  merest  touch  of  emphasis  on  the 
leading  word, — "  executive  business,  my  dear  Count.  His 
Majesty  will  be  free  again  at  twelve,  or  you  might  even 
catch  him  now,  provided  your  matter  is  not  of  a  kind  to 
detain  him. " 

"  My  matter,  dear  Monsieur,"  replied  the  other  even 
more  sweetly,  "  is  with  the  Council.  I  am  here  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  Emperor's  command." 

"  Then  you  are  very  welcome.  Your  seat  will  be 
beside  Monsieur  Pontecoulant  yonder, "and  the  Premier 
turned  once  more  to  Brisson  and  the  Minister  of  Marine, 
to  resume  the  earnest  colloquy  interrupted  by  De  Morin's 
little  invasion. 

Napoleon  had  not  yet  appeared,  and  his  advisers  were 
294 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  295 

still  scattered  in  groups  about  the  room.  The  Grand 
Chamberlain,  slipping  into  a  chair  beside  Pontecoulant, 
— who  alone  was  seated  at  the  table, — commenced  a 
critical  scrutiny  of  everyone  present.  "There's  that 
fool  Carache  jabbering  away  to  Brisson  and  Fre"ron.  It 's 
quite  clear  he  thinks  war  a  certainty.  I  suppose  I  am 
the  only  person  in  the  room  who  knows  better, "  reflected 
the  old  gentleman,  warm  all  over  with  an  immense  self- 
satisfaction.  "I  wonder  who  is  nearer  the  Imperial  ear, 
I,  or  these  blockheads  with  their  precious  '  executive 
business'?"  He  turned  to  his  neighbour,  and  inquired 
softly  what  the  matters  to  be  dealt  with  to-day  might  be. 

Monsieur  Pontecoulant  was  enveloped  in  official  docu- 
ments. He  looked  up  at  his  interlocutor,  and  stared  at 
him  with  an  expression  half-suspicious,  half-impudent, 
which  only  served  to  increase  the  latter's  gratification. 

"Well,  Grand  Chamberlain,"  the  Minister  began 
presently,  gathering  up  his  papers  to  prevent  prying, 
"who  would  have  thought  of  meeting  you  here!  This  is 
indeed  an  unexpected  pleasure.  One  looks  for  you  in 
the  ballrooms  on  the  other  side  of  the  Palace." 

"And  for  you,  Monsieur,  in  the  correctional  courts." 

"Aha,"  with  a  boisterously  good-humoured  laugh, 
"  my  advocate  days  are  over.  You  will  have  to  engage 
a  younger  man,  Count." 

"You  mistake  my  meaning." 

"Perhaps,  perhaps,"  Pontecoulant  retorted,  still 
smiling  blandly.  Of  a  sudden,  a  deeply  anxious  look 
drove  all  the  laughter  from  his  ruddy  face: 

"  You  have  n't  got  a  portfolio,  have  you?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  at  present." 

"  You  are  expecting  one?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you.  Be  satisfied  with  my  first  answer. 
I  have  not  got  a  portfolio,  and  it  is  a  thousand  pities 
that  I  have  not.  The  Emperor  needs  a  few  genuine 
adherents  among  his  advisers.  He  is  beginning  to  see 
it  himself.  Look  round  the  room,  my  esteemed  Mon- 
sieur,— you  must  confess  that  the  lot  of  them  present  a 
most  mangy  appearance.  Not  a  single  one  of  them  but 
has  served  in  one  or  other  of  the  Republican  cabinets." 

"That  hits  me,"  said  Pontecoulant. 


296  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"Ah,  with  you,  dear  friend,  the  thing  is  different. 
What  you  do,  you  do  from  iron  conviction.  I  have 
heard" — with  an  arch  smile — "of  your  little  betise  on 
the  night  of  the  coup  d'etat.  His  Majesty  values  you  for 
it.  He  knows  how  to  appreciate  honesty,  does  the 
Emperor.  He  often  says:  'Pontecoulant  is  the  only 
honest  man  among  them.  What  he  does,  he  does  from 
iron  conviction.  As  for  the  rest — '  But  you  know  for 
yourself, — why  should  I  repeat  what  the  Emperor  says 
of  them?  They  are  a  batch  of  foxy  opportunists.  Take 
Carache,  for  instance.  He  possesses  a  single  political 
axiom,  and  he  spends  his  days  cackling  it  forth  to  a 
credulous  universe :  '  There  is  but  one  God,  and  Carache 
is  his  prophet;  there  is  but  one  Carache,  and  France  is 
his  lawful  prey.'  How  a  clever  man  like  you,  Monsieur 
Pontecoulant,  can  be  gulled  by  his  petty  knaveries 
passes  my  comprehension." 

"Carache,"  began  the  other,  lowering  his  mouth  to 
a  level  with  De  Morin's  ear, — "Carache  is  a  very  good 
servant.  When  I  have  had  the  lead,  I  have  always  found 
him  an  invaluable  lieutenant." 

"  He  is  a  wretch, ' '  rejoined  De  Morin,  "  and  his  days 
are  numbered."  Monsieur  Pontecoulant — he  resembled 
a  butcher  somewhat — looked  happy  enough  to  hear  the 
other  use  such  language.  He  saw  himself  once  again 
Premier. 

At  this  point  an  usher  announcing  his  Majesty  put  an 
end  to  all  further  conversation.  The  Ministers  got  to 
the  table,  and  waited — the  majority  of  them  dozing 
among  their  papers — for  one  or  the  other  of  the  two 
great  men  to  begin. 

The  greatest  opened.  "Brisson,"  exclaimed  Carache, 
"the  War-Office,  I  understand,  sees  more  and  more 
reason  to  suspect — " 

"Oh  dear,  oh  dear,"  murmured  Napoleon,  "surely 
I  have  heard  all  this?  " 

"A  circumstance — I  should  say  circumstances  of 
great  significance, "  persisted  Carache,  "are  reported 
from  Vienna.  The  War-Office  has  quite  convinced  me 
and  my  colleagues  that  the  situation  is  most  critical." 

Their  words  seemed  like  the  constant  "drip-drip" 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  297 

of  water  upon  a  stone.  Our  poor  friend  had  heard  the 
same  old  story  under  different  guises  so  often  before, 
that  he  could  not  now  receive  it  with  those  signs  of 
emotion  which  his  advisers  evidently  expected.  Yet,  from 
some  cause  or  another,  which  he  was  unable  to  explain, 
these  alarming  reports  and  rumours  were  less  distasteful 
than  hitherto.  The  truth  was,  they  fell  in  with  the  first 
faint  inclining  towards  a  new  purpose.  This  is  the  way 
of  love.  It  cannot  endure  to  separate  itself  from  its  idol 
in  so  little  a  thing  as  a  political  opinion.  The  question 
of  peace  and  war — so  a  sane  man  would  imagine — is, 
after  all,  a  purely  mundane  one,  not  requiring  slavish 
imitation  as  part  of  a  lover's  homage. 

But  he  made  an  heroic  effort  to  be  free. 

"Suppose  I  refuse  to  be  beguiled  into  war  on  the 
ground  of  mere  rumours  and  conjectures?  Gentlemen, 
what  then?  " 

"  Why,  your  Majesty  must  look  for  other  advisers," 
said  Carache. 

"Surely  this  is  intimidation!  " 

"  Monsieur  de  Morin, "  shouted  the  Premier,  "  kindly 
keep  silent." 

"Monsieur  Carache,"  returned  his  Majesty,  "  I  do 
not  permit  these  outbursts  in  my  presence." 

The  Minister  heaved  a  sigh  of  philosophic  resignation. 
"His  Majesty  must  pardon  me;  my  temper  overcame 
my  respect.  And  at  the  same  time  he  must  permit  me 
to  retire  into  private  life." 

He  rose  mournfully  from  his  chair,  an  example  fol- 
lowed by  all  his  colleagues,  save  Monsieur  Ponte"coulant, 
who  dived  instead  under  the  table  in  order  to  recover  a 
paper  which  had  opportunely  fallen  to  the  ground. 
Verre  went  with  Carache. 

"  Let  me  add  this,"  came  Brisson's  mournful  bass, 
"there  is  not  an  honest  man  in  France  who  can  advise 
peace,  while  professing  to  be  anxious  to  preserve  your 
crown." 

"Marshal  Brisson,"  exclaimed  De  Morin, — he  was 
leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  smiling  at  the  forlorn 
Premier, — "you  have  no  right  to  say  that." 

"  But  I  do  say  it,"  blazed  Don  Quixote. 


298  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  My  dear  friend,  reflect  one  moment.  Surely  you 
do  not  mean  seriously  to  affirm  that  because  I  do  not 
want  to  plunge  France  into  the  horrors  of  war,  I  am 
therefore  a  traitor  to  the  throne?  " 

"  I  do  affirm  it." 

"  But,  my  beloved  child — " 

"  Monsieur  de  Morin,  so  long  as  I  am  Prime  Min- 
ister, I  must  ask  you  to  hold  your  tongue.  Your  be- 
haviour to-day  has  been  most  irregular.  Well,  sire?  " 

His  Majesty  was  in  the  throes  of  making  up  his  mind. 
The  anticipated  moment  had  arrived.  How  should  he 
dismiss  them? — curtly,  or  with  comfortable  assurances? 
He  chose  the  latter  course,  and  so  began: 

"  Dear  and  faithful  servants — "  Carache  dashed  away 
a  tear.  Napoleon  felt  deeply  touched;  he  would  dis- 
miss them  by  letter  instead. 

"  Surely  it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  come  to  a  final 
decision  now?  We  have  plenty  of  time.  I  cannot  part 
with  you  thus  at  a  moment's  notice." 

Eight  eminent  gentlemen  sank  back  into  as  many 
hardly  less  eminent  chairs,  with  signs  of  intense  relief. 

"Really  I  cannot  be  expected  to  make  up  my  mind 
at  a  minute's  notice.  I  must  have  time  to  turn  about 
in.  I  must  see  Prehlen  and  hear  what  he  says,"  and 
with  this  outburst  of  petulance  he  swept  out  of  the  room. 

Monsieur  Oscar  Prehlen  sat  in  his  library  at  No.  79 
Rue  de  Crenelle,  Boulevard  St.  Germain,  smoking  a  long 
cigar  and  complacently  stroking  a  longer  beard. 

The  whole  Embassy  lay  open,  but  he  had  selected 
this  dingy  back  room  for  his  private  abode,  in  preference 
to  the  more  luxurious  apartment  inhabited  by  his  prede- 
cessors. And  the  reasons  which  he  always  gave  for  this 
curious  choice  did  infinite  credit  to  the  goodness  of  his 
heart. 

"My  dear  friend,"  he  would  say  to  you,  supposing 
you  asked  him  why  he  thus  hid  himself  away  among  his 
attache's — "  my  dear  friend, tell  you  the  reason !  Of  course 
I  will,  and  with  pleasure.  This  modest  little  sanctum 
of  mine  recalls  to  me  the  memory  of  a  room  in  the  Carl- 
Johann,  wherein  I  used  to  live,  when  I  was  a  little, golden- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  299 

haired  boy.  That" — pointing  to  a  noble  view  of  the 
backs  of  certain  houses,  whose  frontage  looked  upon 
the  Rue  de  Varennes — "  represents  the  university;  while 
the  courtyard  down  there  stands  for  the  dear  old  Eids- 
vold  Plads.  Ah  me!  but  that  was  long  ago,  before  ever 
I  wandered  forth  into  big,  cold,  cheerless  Russia." 
Then  he  would  heave  a  sigh  and — for  it  behooves  us  to 
make  the  picture  as  lifelike  as  possible — flick  the  ash  of 
his  cigar  onto  the  window-sill,  blowing  it  thence  lightly 
away,  so  that  it  might  descend  leisurely,  a  little  cloud  of 
grey  dust,  through  streaks  of  sunlight,  onto  the  burning 
pavement  of  the  yard,  recalling  Eidsvold  Plads  to  his 
tenderly  retentive  memory. 

Others  gave  reasons  rather  less  sentimental.  Leave 
Prehlen ;  tap  next  door,and  question  one  of  those  irrespon- 
sible young  attaches  of  his — that  overgrown  boy,  Fersen, 
for  choice,  with  his  angel-face  and  his  six  feet  and  his 
illimitable  capacity  for  champagne  and  bad  brandy  at 
present  in  abeyance.  He  would  furnish  you  with  a  very 
different  story.  He  would  tell  you  of  Madame's  fearful 
tempers;  and  how  that  life  near  her  was  a  veritable  hell. 
Then  he  would  proceed  to  whisper,  with  sundry,  deep- 
chested  chuckles,  of  Monsieur  Prehlen's  consolation, 
which  came  by  way  of  a  certain  secret  spiral  staircase, 
and  which  presented  itself  (in  winter-time,  at  least), 
garbed  in  costly  sables  that  had  belonged  to  his  Excel- 
lency's maternal  grandmother. 

But  young  men  are  so  notoriously  unreliable. 

Besides,  even  if  Monsieur  Prehlen  did  indulge  in  a 
semi-platonic  friendship,  he  performed  his  duties  with 
considerable  skill. 

He  was  the  most  talkative,  and  to  first  appearances 
the  most  communicative,  man  that  has  ever  issued  forth 
from  bowelless  Muscovy.  His  kindness  even  surpassed 
his  loquacity.  Were  you  prince  or  peasant,  he  would 
fondle  you  and  pat  your  shoulder  and  lovingly  stroke 
your  hand, — the  whole  process,  mind,  within  two  minutes 
of  making  your  acquaintance.  He  would  overwhelm  you 
with  an  account  of  his  family  affairs,  telling  you  about 
his  dear,  dead  mother;  his  aunt  Ottilia;  his  elder  brother, 
the  rascally  Christiania  ship-broker  and  ice  merchant; 


300  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

and  his  wife  and  her  impossible  temper.  An  especial 
friend  might  also  hear  a  little  about  the  Sables. 

The  Ambassador  would  next  proceed  to  inveigh  against 
Russia,  and  impress  upon  you  how  he  hated  the  country, 
its  institutions,  and  its  people.  That  topic  satisfactorily 
disposed  of,  he  would  wind  up  by  discussing  his  ailments 
and  vehemently  damning  his  digestive  organs.  This 
was  the  process  with  every  comer,  and  on  all  occasions. 

Opposing  diplomatists  usually  met  his  first  advances 
with  intense  suspicion.  "This  fellow  is  exceedingly 
dangerous.  He  is  trying  to  wheedle  me."  But  by  the 
time  he  had  reached  his  Aunt  Ottilia  all  suspicions  were 
lulled  to  rest,  and  the  opponent's  sole  feeling  was  one  of 
sensitive  dread  lest  he  might  take  too  great  an  advan- 
tage of  so  fearful  and  wonderful  a  fool. 

Generally  speaking,  their  fears  proved  groundless. 
Monsieur  Prehlen  knew  his  business.  The  conversa- 
tional expansiveness,  which  never  left  him,  was  part  of  his 
modus  operandi.  And  it  rarely  failed.  He  was  in- 
deed wise  in  despising  the  old  school  of  diplomats,  with 
their  icily  courteous  exteriors  and  their  not  too  hidden 
acuteness;  and  the  new  school,  made  up  of  austere  young 
noblemen  who  mimicked  the  little  tricks  and  graces  of 
their  predecessors, — especially  those  timeworn  assump- 
tions of  absolute  calmness  under  all  circumstances, — but 
who  could  not  see  that  these  things  were  mere  surplus- 
age, and,  without  sagacity  and  knowledge  of  men,  noth- 
ing worth. 

But  to  return  to  the  particular  occasion  on  which 
Monsieur  Prehlen  sat  smoking  a  long  cigar.  He  was  in 
the  best  of  spirits.  The  morning  had  been  given  over 
to  dry  official  correspondence;  the  forenoon  to  a  still 
drier  official  reception.  Here,  at  last,  was  rest  after 
toil,  and  the  prospect  of  a  pleasant  little  evening  with 
Mademoiselle  the  Consoler.  He  puffed  away  leisurely, 
and  thought  of  nothing — unless,  perchance,  of  that  little 
dinner  for  two  which  was  even  now  preparing  in  the  am- 
bassadorial kitchen. 

Mademoiselle  the  Consoler,  known  to  the  outside 
world  as  Mademoiselle  Leduc  of  the  Vaudeville,  acted 
up  to  her  beautiful  title.  She  never  failed  to  shed  an 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  301 

ineffable  peace  over  the  necessarily  secluded  portion  of 
the  Embassy  graced  by  her  presence.  In  her  society 
the  soft-souled  Norwegian  forgot  all  about  his  violent 
wife.  His  brother,  the  fraudulent  ice  merchant,  passed 
likewise  into  the  realm  of  dreams. 

Alas!  there  was  a  skeleton  even  at  this  romantic  little 
table.  Dear,  cosy  little  feasts,  which  might  very  well 
have  gone  scatheless!  Fersen's  presence  hovered  over 
it.  For  Nicholas  dealt  amiably  and  gently  with  all  the 
world.  His  heart  lay  elsewhere  (as  we  know),  but  that 
did  not  hinder  an  engaging  courtesy  to  such  of  the  chief's 
visitors  as  came  his  way.  The  Sables  appreciated  polite- 
ness from  whatever  source,  even  upon  the  threshold  of 
her  wealthiest  admirer.  She  likewise  had  a  leaning 
towards  personal  beauty.  Accordingly,  she  used  to  speak 
so  maternally  of  the  lad  in  Prehlen's  presence,  that  his 
Excellency  the  Russian  Ambassador  commenced  to  har- 
bour unworthy  suspicions.  The  weakness  of  women  was 
in  their  (self-declared)  strongest  link,  in  the  eyes  of  this 
cheerful  Mystic.  To-day,  however,  the  Count  was  safely 
off  the  premises.  There  would  be  no  accidental  meeting 
to-day.  And  this  is  partly  why  Monsieur  Prehlen  was  in 
the  best  of  tempers. 

But  even  ambassadors  must  expect  sometimes  to  be 
disappointed.  A  hurried  step  along  the  passage;  a  hur- 
ried tap  at  his  study  .door — to  his  eager  ears  they  seemed 
the  heralds  of  approaching  happiness. 

Eager  ears  are  frequently  mistaken. 

"An  Imperial  messenger,"  announced  his  Russian 
servant. 

"The  Emperor  begs  your  Excellency's  immediate 
attendance  at  the  Elysee. " 

"Curse  you,  Peter,''  cried  Monsieur,  "why  the  devil 
did  you  say  I  was  at  home?  I  cannot  possibly  go;  I 
won't  go.  Tell  your  master,  tell  the  Emperor  that  my 
digestion  is  in  a  state  too  damnable  for  words.  I  cannot 
budge  from  this  room  without  danger." 

"Your  Excellency,  I  was  to  say  that  the  Emperor 
begs  you  not  to  disappoint  him." 

"The  Emperor  is  at  Meaux. " 

"He  returned  this  morning." 


302  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  I  thought  he  meant  to  remain  there  for  another  week. 
All  my  engagements  are  made  upon  that  assumption.  I 
will  come  to-morrow  morning." 

"I  have  to  beg  you  to  come  at  once." 

"My  dear  friend,"  Prehlen  said,  laying  an  affectionate 
hand  upon  the  servant's  shoulder,  "it  is  no  use — you 
positively  must  return  without  me.  Inform  your  Imperial 
master  that  I  am  overwhelmed  with  grief.  But  were  I 
to  venture  out  into  the  open  air,  my  life  would  not  be 
worth  a  second's  purchase.  An  aged  aunt,  by  name 
Ottilia  Eger,  an  inhabitant  of  Arendal,  depends  entirely 
on  me  for  her  daily  bread.  She  doesn't  eat  bread;  but 
you  know  what  I  mean.  Drag  me  out  to  the  Elysee, 
and  you  deprive  her  of  all  means  of  subsistence." 

The  lacquey,  though  much  bewildered,  was  terribly 
urgent.  He  merely  reiterated  doggedly  that  the  Em- 
peror begged  and  begged  and  begged.  His  persistence 
gained  the  day. 

"You  have  no  bowels,"  cried  his  Excellency,  at  last, 
with  an  angry  stamp.  "  May  you  never  know  what  it  is 
to  have  an  aged  aunt  who  depends  on  you  for  her  daily 
bread.  Return  and  inform  his  Majesty  that  I  am 
coming." 

When,  half  an  hour  later,  the  Russian  Ambassador 
entered  the  Imperial  presence,  he  found  Napoleon  deep 
in  conversation  with  Monsieur  Carache.  The  Premier 
sprang  forward  to  greet  him,  seizing  both  his  hands  in  a 
grip  of  frenzied  affection. 

"Welcome,  dear  colleague  in  the  Continental  sys- 
tem !  "  he  cried ;  ' '  thrice  welcome !  ' ' 

"  The  sea-spider  grows, "  the  new-comer  replied  grave- 
ly; he  always  commenced  thus  with  Carache. 

"The  crocodile  grows,"  our  Frenchman  answered. 
"  She  grows,  but  she  will  soon  burst.  Dear  Monsieur 
Prehlen,  we  are  so  sorry  to  trouble  you." 

"Pray  do  not  mention  it,"  he  politely  rejoined,  bow- 
ing with  deep  reverence  to  Napoleon;  "it  is  my  duty. 
Also,  anything  I  can  do  to  show  my  intense  regard  for 
his  Majesty  is  pleasure  enough  without  thanks.  When 
I  was  a  boy  in  Norway,  in  my  dear,  dead  father's  office — 
he  dealt  in  timber  and  was  exceedingly  unfortunate, 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  303 

dying  some  fifty  thousand  pounds  in  debt — I  frequently 
used  to  spend  whole  nights  reading  about  your  great 
ancestor.  What  a  hero!  Everything  connected  with 
him,  however  remotely,  is  of  priceless  interest.  Only 
last  Sunday  my  Aunt  Ottilia  wrote  and  begged  me  for  a 
lock  of  your  hair.  I  replied  Mater  on.'  ' 

"We  have  summoned  you,"  Carache  softly  inter- 
rupted, "on  very  important  business.  The  Emperor 
would  like  you  to  be  seated." 

The  Emperor  himself  was  already  in  his  chair.  A 
box  of  pencils  lay  among  his  implements  upon  the  desk; 
he  commenced  fidgetting  with  them.  The  Imperial  pulse 
and  brain,  however,  were  perfectly  calm.  Truly,  em- 
perors are  born,  not  made. 

The  Ambassador  sank  upon  a  corner  of  the  sofa. 

"The  sea-spider  grows,"  he  murmured. 

"The  crocodile  grows.  Dear  friend,  my  master  bids 
me  make  you  a  grave  announcement." 

Prehlen  stroked  his  beard. 

"We  hear  from  an  authentic  source,"  the  Minister 
pursued,  "that  one  of  the  great  powers  is  meditating 
war. ' ' 

"Indeed!"  and  for  the  merest  fraction  of  a  second 
Prehlen's  watery  blue  eyes  rested  on  the  Imperial  face. 
"War  is  a  terrible  scourge." 

"You  speak  truly,"  Napoleon's  shaking  voice  broke 
in;  "I  hope  to  God  that  it  may  still  be  avoided." 

"For  the  present,  we  cannot  consider  that,"  said 
Carache.  "As  the  situation  stands  to-day,  our  opponent 
is  determined  to  draw  the  sword.  We  must  draw  in 
self-defence.  Monsieur  Prehlen,  is  it  not  so?  " 

"Please  do  not  ask  me,"  Prehlen  cried,  much  agi- 
tated. "  War  is  such  a  terrible  scourge." 

"  We  must  indeed,"  Carache  continued  relentlessly. 
"Be  sure,  France  and  the  Emperor  both  love  peace  too 
much  to  yield  to  aught  but  the  strongest  compulsion." 

"I  know,  I  know,"  moaned  the  other.  "It  makes 
my  heart  ache.  When  I  first  got  this  Embassy,  my  dear 
aunt  wrote  me  a  sweet  little  note  of  congratulation, 
wherein  she  bade  me  ever  be  a  peacemaker.  'Oscar,' 
she  wrote  in  that  neat  copper-plate  hand  of  hers,  '  they 


304  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

are  very  blessed.'  And  have  I  not  always  striven  to 
obey  her  beautiful  words?  The  bare  thought  of  the 
desolation  war  leaves  drains  my  heart  of  its  blood." 

"  How  true,  how  true." 

Prehlen  glanced  sharply  at  Napoleon,  then  inquired 
of  Carache  in  an  undertone: 

"  I  presume  it  will  be  mainly  Asiatic?  " 

"Asiatic?" 

"Yes;  we  really  are  n't  in  a  condition  to  go  mess- 
ing about  in  these  northern  seas.  You  will  have  to  do 
that  for  us." 

"  Really,  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"I  thought  you  said  that  England  was  meditating 
war. ' ' 

"  No,  Germany.  I  meant  Germany,  if  I  did  not  say 
it." 

"  Ah,"  rejoined  Prehlen,  not  the  least  abashed,  "that 
rather  alters  things.  I  do  n't  know  that  we  have  any 
quarrel  with  Germany." 

"You  did  not  talk  like  that,  two  years  ago,  when  you 
helped  to  make  the  convention  of  Contrexeville,"  Ca- 
rache said  sharply. 

"Ah,  things  have  changed  since  then.  His  Majesty 
is  a  sign  how  much.  As  far  as  my  own  personal  feelings 
are  concerned,  the  Prussians  are  welcome  to  the  whole 
of  Poland,  and  as  much  of  our  upper  western  border  as 
they  care  to  be  bothered  with — than  which  an  uglier, 
dirtier,  more  miserable  country  I  never  did  see." 

"Pardon,  Monsieur,  but  the  Emperor's  time  is  valu- 
able. What  attitude  will  your  country  assume,  in  the 
event  of  hostilities?  Can  you,  and  will  you,  tell  us  that?  " 

Napoleon's  teeth  chattered. 

"Can  you,  and  will  you,  tell  us  that?"  he  echoed 
faintly. 

"  I  daresay  I  can." 

"  Well?  "  also  from  trembling  Majesty. 

"The  attitude  of  peacemakers  I  feel  convinced." 

Carache  could  scarcely  stifle  an  exclamation  of  im- 
patience. "Monsieur  Prehlen  need  scarcely  trouble  to 
remind  us  of  the  benevolence  of  his  government.  Sup- 
pose, however,  its  efforts  prove  unavailing, — what  then?  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  305 

"  The  thought  is  too  terrible.  Your  master  must 
permit  me  to  telegraph.  I  will  let  you  have  the  answer 
directly  I  receive  it,  say  the  first  thing  in  the  morning." 

"We  beg  you  to  let  us  have  it  to-night." 

"Could  not  Monsieur  Prehlen  send  a  telegram  from 
here?  "  hazarded  Napoleon. 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  think  we  can  ask  him  to  do  that." 

But  the  Ambassador  smiled  sweetly  and  remarked 
that  he  had  n't  the  least  objection. 

"  I  have  my  cipher  and  my  servant.  I  need  nothing 
except  writing  materials  and  a  quiet  room." 

"This  way  then!  "  cried  the  Premier. 

"And  you  will  let  us  know  as  quickly  as  possible?  " 
hazarded  Bonaparte. 

"  Directly  I  hear  myself." 

"  Nonsense — nonsense,"  Carache  interposed.  "Take 
your  own  time." 

Peter,  the  Muscovite  valet,  who  sat  patiently  waiting 
in  the  Emperor's  private  hall,  followed  his  master  into 
the  secretaries'  room.  The  chamber  was  full  of  cur- 
tained doors  and  windows.  Monsieur  Prehlen  proceeded 
to  examine  each  in  detail,  to  make  sure  that  none  of  the 
secretaries  had  been  left  behind,  either  by  design  or  acci- 
dent. He  jerked  open  the  principal  door,  hoping  that 
the  impossible  Godefroy  might  be  surprised,  with  his  eye 
glued  to  the  keyhole, — a  benignant  desire  which  was  not 
fulfilled.  Nevertheless,  he  took  good  care  to  whisper 
his  commands,  standing  on  tiptoe  that  he  might  get  his 
mouth  level  with  Peter's  ear,  which,  judging  from  Peter's 
face,  was  constructed  by  nature  to  receive  more  than  it 
could  comfortably  digest. 

"Return  to  the  Embassy  and  get  Monsieur  Wadern 
to  give  you  a  foreign  telegram — one  received  to-day,  be 
careful  of  that.  Bring  it  back  here  in  exactly  an  hour." 

Once  alone,  Monsieur  Prehlen  walked  across  to  the 
secretaries' private  shelf.  "These  will  suit  me,"  he 
sighed,  taking  out  five  bound  volumes  of  Le  Charivari. 
With  them  in  his  arms  he  sank  into  an  easy-chair.  They 
served  to  pass  the  time.  And  Peter  returned  to  find  his 
master  buried  in  the  contemplation  of  numerous  delight- 
fully questionable  pictures. 


306  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Napoleon  and  his  first  minister  were  not  so  patient. 
The  latter  sat  down  to  voluminous  despatches,  and  pre- 
tended to  be  engrossed.  The  former,  more  candid,  per- 
haps, paced  up  and  down  the  room  with  a  show  of  agita- 
tion which  boded  ill  for  his  behaviour  under  greater  trials. 

"  Carache,  Carache,"  he  said  at  last  plaintively,  "  do 
you  think  they  will  fight  on  our  side?  " 

"How  can  I  tell?" 

"I  thought  you  might  be  able  to  give  a  shrewd  guess. 
You  were  mixed  up  with  the  affairs  of  Cronstadt  and 
Toulon  and  Mirecourt,  is  n't  it  so?  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  Carache  replies,  and  not  too  respectfully, 
"  but  that  was  different.  We  were  never  near  war  in 
those  days." 

"I  hate  war, "  cried  our  hero  peevishly.  "  I  do  n't 
want  to  go  to  war.  Why  should  I?  I  have  got  every- 
thing I  require.  I  wont  fight.  Into  the  next  room, 
quick!  Tell  him  he  need  n't  trouble." 

"  Sire,  be  calm.  And  for  heaven's  sake  modulate 
your  voice." 

"  I  refuse  to  be  calm.  You  are  all  in  a  league  to  ruin 
me.  You  wish  to  drive  me  into  another  Sedan." 

"  Your  Majesty  is  worried.  There,  there,  we  need  n't 
talk  any  more  about  the  horrid  business.  Our  Muscovite 
will  be  back  presently ;  do  not  let  him  see  that  we  are  per- 
turbed." 

So  both  men  relapsed  into  silence;  the  Premier  re- 
suming his  occupation,  and  Napoleon  moving  restlessly 
about  the  room,  all  impatience  for  the  Russian  reply. 
It  soon  came.  Exactly  one  hour  after  Prehlen's  depart- 
ure the  door  opened  to  readmit  that  artless  creature. 
He  advanced,  all  smiles,  brandishing  a  crumpled  tele- 
gram. Napoleon  slid  into  his  chair,  and  set  to  work  on 
papers  which  vied  with  Carache's  in  sternness  of  appear- 
ance. He  looked  vacantly  up  at  his  Excellency.  Ca- 
rache did  likewise  from  his  side. 

"Ah,  Monsieur  Prehlen,"  said  the  latter,  "  pray  give 
us  a  single  minute.  Most  important  despatches,  you 
know." 

' '  I  know, ' '  cooed  Prehlen,  sliding  into  a  chair ;  ' '  take 
as  long  as  you  like." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  307 

He  looked  the  picture  of  contented  peace.  So  much 
of  his  cheeks  as  golden  hair  had  not  covered  were  tinged 
with  a  delicate  pink  which  a  woman  might  have  envied. 
His  eyes,  though  now  a  trifle  moist,  had  once  upon  a  time 
been  blue;  and  eyes  in  a  well-fed,  well-clothed  man  are 
the  last  features  to  coarsen.  His  beard,  albeit  a  trifle 
too  yellow  near  the  corners  of  the  mouth,  was  truly  a 
noble  ornament,  and  the  frequency  with  which  he  stroked 
it  showed  that  he  was  conscious  of  its  beauty. 

He  gazed  genially  at  Napoleon's  bent  head.  Its 
studious  aspect  did  not  conceal  from  him  the  fact  that 
the  Emperor  was  gnawing  his  quill  and  cursing  his  ser- 
vant's procrastination.  Nor  was  the  latter's  pose  any 
more  effective  in  deceiving  so  wily  an  antagonist. 

"  Forgive  me,"  cried  Carache  at  last,  throwing  down 
his  pen  with  a  little  sigh  of  relief,  "I  had  to  finish  this 
letter  for  his  Majesty."  The  Premier  wheeled  round  to 
face  the  Ambassador,  and  thereafter  sat  watching  him 
like  a  tiger  out  for  a  picnic.  The  Norwegian's  infantile 
expression  arid  modesty  of  demeanour  strengthened  the 
illusion,  giving  him  much  the  appearance  of  some  startled 
antelope  which  feels  a  dread  presentiment  of  its  part 
in  the  coming  feast. 

"  Before  anything  else,  sire,"  Prehlen returned,  "may 
I  make  one  last  appeal?  I  beseech  you  sheath  the  half- 
drawn  sword." 

"Impossible!"  said  Carache. 

"  No,it  is  not  impossible, "  muttered  Napoleon.  "  The 
sword,  as  you  say,  is  only  half  drawn.  I  am  not  sure 
that  it  will  come  out  any  farther." 

"Ah,"  said  Prehlen. 

"  Not  at  all  sure.  But  there  was  no  harm  our  put- 
ting the  question  to  you,  was  there?  Your  answer  may 
help  to  decide  us — me." 

"Oh!  "  again  from  Prehlen. 

"What  does  your  government  say?  "  Carache  asked. 

"  We  propose  to  put  ourselves  on  a  war  footing  at  the 
very  outset  of  hostilities." 

"Yes,"  eagerly. 

"You  may  be  sure  that  in  doing  this,"  dawdled  the 


308  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Ambassador,  "we  shall  not  have  far  to  go.  We  are 
pretty  near  a  war  footing  now." 

"  Pray  go  on." 

"  Navy  and  army,  remember,  will  be  placed  on  a  war 
footing.  Naturally,  we  shall  need  subsidies." 

"You  shall  have  them;  you  may  take  his  Majesty's 
word  for  it.  Go  on." 

"  Being  on  a  war  footing,  and  receiving  your  sub- 
sidies,— loans,  you  know, — we  shall  observe  the  strictest 
neutrality. " 

He  stopped  dead  short  and  smiled  benignly  at  his 
fellow-negotiators. 

The  Emperor  drooped  his  shoulders  in  utter  prostra- 
tion. Monsieur  Carache  cried  "Pah!"  his  favourite 
expletive. 

"The  strictest  neutrality."  Prehlen  repeated,  linger- 
ing unctuously  over  this  part  of  his  communication.  "  If 
you  conquer,  as  you  no  doubt  will,  we  shall  look  to  par- 
ticipate in  your  good  fortune.  We  should  regard  such  a 
share  in  the  light  of  compensation." 

"Compensation!  What  in  heaven's  name  for?" 
hotly  from  Carache. 

"  For  not  siding  with  your  enemies. " 

"Pish!  I  am  quite  sure  you  are  joking." 

"  Oh,  dear,  no.  I  am  giving  you  my  government's 
instructions  word  for  word." 

"You  must  specify  your  share." 

"  We  can  do  that  later  on.  It  would  look  too  greedy 
just  at  present. " 

"  There  will  probably  be  no  war." 

"That  is  as  your  Majesty  pleases." 

"And  if  we  are  beaten?  "  asked  Carache. 

"  Need  we  talk  of  that?  "  purred  Prehlen. 

"Certainly,  we  need." 

Prehlen  turned  and  gazed  at  Napoleon  in  deep  com- 
miseration. The  moisture  in  his  eyes  increased.  Two 
"erring  pearls"  quivered  over  the  nose-corners  of  his 
lower  lids,  hung  there  a  while  for  re-enforcements,  and 
then  rolled  gently  down  his  tinted  cheeks. 

"  Majesty,"  he  gulped,  "  may  heaven  avert  defeat!  " 

"Oh!"  burst  out  Napoleon,   himself  much  affected, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  309 

"you  know  I  have  not  finally  made  up  my  mind  to 
war. ' ' 

"  Do  n't;  take  my  advice,  and  do  n't!  " 

"Honestly,  I  do  not  think  I  shall." 

"  If  we  are  beaten?  "  persisted  Carache. 

"I  can't  bear  to  hear  you,"  Prehlen  answered.  He 
endeavoured  to  make  his  lips  quiver,  forgetting  that  they 
were  hidden  beneath  heavy  hair,  and  that,  accordingly, 
success  in  such  an  undertaking  could  not  be  counted 
unto  him  for  righteousness.  It  took  him  some  time  to 
master  his  emotion.  But,  like  the  brave  man  he  was, 
when  he  did  speak  again,  it  was  in  a  manner  altogether 
business-like  and  self-possessed. 

"We  shall  stand  at  attention.  His  Majesty  will  only 
have  to  send  us  word  that  the  Germans  have  penetrated 
one  yard  west  of  a  line  drawn  between  Thionville  and 
Belfort,  and  we  shall  be  en  route  for  Berlin." 

"In  fact  a  defensive  alliance." 

"Exactly." 

Napoleon  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief.  "Your  words, 
Monsieur,  have  removed  a  weight  from  my  mind.  I 
thank  you  for  them." 

"You  fill  me  with  pride." 

"Monsieur  may  well  be  proud.  He  has  bound  two 
great  nations  together.  Come  adversity — " 

"Which  God  forbid,"  cooed  Prehlen. 

"  Russia  and  France  will  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder; 
if  success — " 

"They  will  share  like  brothers,"  grinned  Carache. 

"What  about  the  preliminaries?"  asked  Prehlen 
drawing  out  a  note-book. 

"We  can  leave  those  till  the  morning,"  answered 
Carache. 

"  Mind,  even  when  we  have  signed  them,"  Napoleon 
made  haste  to  say,  "we  do  not  bind  ourselves  to  fight." 

"  Of  course  not." 

"I  must  have  time  to  think  the  whole  matter  over 
quietly.  I  haven't  been  on  the  throne  above  a  month; 
it  is  preposterous  to  expect  me  to  decide  so  momen- 
tous a  question  in  so  short  a  time." 

"  I   thoroughly   understand.     Very    well,    Monsieur 


310  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Carache,  to-morrow  morning.  Sire,  permit  me  to  offer 
you  the  assurances  of  my  most  devoted  respect.  Mon- 
sieur, adieu,"  and  in  the  hall  his  sharp  ears  caught  these 
words,  spoken  by  Napoleon,  "Carache,  Carache,  I 
wonder  whether  we  have  made  a  judicious  bargain? " 


Chapter  VII 


His  Excellency  the  Russian  Ambassador  was  troubled 
by  no  such  sinister  reflexions.  He  returned  home  to  the 
Rue  de  Grenelle,  feeling  that  his  country  might  well  .con- 
gratulate itself  on  the  possession  of  so  clever  a  public 
servant.  And  his  satisfaction  increased  tenfold  when  he 
discovered  what  the  kind  gods  had  prepared  for  him  in 
his  little  room,  to  wit,  Mademoiselle  the  Consoler,  more 
beautiful  than  ever,  and  ravishingly  dressed.  Like  a 
wise  ambassador  who  must  have  lighter  moments,  he 
suffered  her  to  partake  of  his  good  humour  without  shar- 
ing in  his  good  news.  And  when  she  had  departed,  and 
the  moon  in  its  turn  had  done  the  same,  he  mumbled 
some  perfunctory  prayers — for  much  the  same  reasons 
that  induced  mediaeval  men  to  wear  bits  of  dried  frog 
and  necklets  of  strung  teeth — and  slipped  into  bed,  well 
pleased  with  his  afternoon's  work.  He  would  write  to 
Aunt  Ottilia  in  the  morning;  this  would  gratify  her  more 
than  a  dozen  locks  of  hair  from  the  Imperial  brow. 

Three  days  later,  and  at  twilight,  Monsieur  stood  in 
his  wife's  boudoir  buttoning  white  kid  gloves,  and  smil- 
ing at  the  reflexion  of  his  pink  complexion  and  yellow 
beard.  Madame  was  more  than  usually  unpunctual,  and 
they  were  due  at  the  table  of  a  hostess  who  counted  that 
virtue  high.  But  no  shade  of  vexation  crossed  Prehlen's 
contemplative  face.  He  was  a  man  who  deserved  hap- 
piness, for  he  made  good  use  of  it  when  it  came.  He 
chewed  the  cud  of  some  past  piece  of  fortune  for  days  on 
end,  and  the  whole  Embassy,  save  such  part  of  it  as  was 
dedicated  to  Madame,  shared  in  his  high  spirits.  On 
this  occasion,  it  is  true,  he  had  grave  doubts  about  the 
intrinsic  merits  of  the  treaty.  But  the  first  duty  of  Rus- 
sian servants  is  to  obey  instructions.  He  had  done  so 

3" 


312  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

to  the  letter,  and  if  the  home  authorities  chose  to  change 
their  tactics  at  the  eleventh  hour,  when  possibly  it  might 
be  too  late,  that  was  no  concern  of  his. 

So  the  Ambassador  smiled  at  himself  affably,  and 
hummed  an  air,  and  patted  his  beard  and  his  orders,  and 
waited  in  patience  for  Madame. 

There  came  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet  along  the  pas- 
sage. Next  minute  the  door  burst  open. 

"Ah,  Fersen,  it  is  you?  "  said  Monsieur;  he  still  sur- 
veyed himself  in  the  chimney-glass. 

The  lad's  face  was  flushed  with  excitement.  He 
brandished  a  much-mangled  Soir. 

"Look  here!"  he  shouted,  "Excellency,  what  do 
you  think  of  this?  " 

"  My  child,  pray  be  calm.  You  will  burst  an  im- 
portant blood-vessel.  What  shall  I  say  to  your  mother, 
then?" 

"  Read  this!  "  was  the  only  answer. 

Prehlen  wheeled  round  slowly.  He  extracted  a  small, 
gold  toothpick  from  his  fob-pocket,  examined  it  minutely 
for  several  seconds,  then  commenced  exploring  his  false 
teeth. 

"I  never  read  without  my  glasses,"  he  drawled  out. 
"  Do  you  read  it  to  me. ' ' 

The  attache"  obeyed,  reciting  the  three  or  four  preg- 
nant lines  in  an  uneven  voice,  which  enhanced  their  sig- 
nificance. It  was  the  usual  "authorized  account."  If 
it  could  be  believed,  war  had  been  declared  against  Ger- 
many at  half-past  three  that  same  afternoon. 

At  dinner  the  table  rang  with  this  thunderbolt.  Mon- 
sieur Prehlen  alone  steadily  ignored  the  one  absorbing 
topic.  He  sighed  a  little  now  and  again  when  he  be- 
thought him  what  a  terrible  scourge  war  was,  but  for  the 
most  part  he  busied  himself  with  such  light  conversation 
as  he  could  get,  and  the  pleasures  of  the  table. 

At  six  o'clock  on  Wednesday  evening,  Carache  took 
his  final  decision.  He  spent  until  half-past  nine  trying 
to  convince  his  master.  He  merely  succeeded  in  leaving 
the  last-named  potentate  prostrate  on  his  sofa,  in  the 
attitude  of  a  defunct  jelly-fish,  and  faltering  upon  the 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  313 

brink  of  idle  tears.  Next  morning  the  Premier  returned 
to  the  attack,  without  avail, — suffice  to  say  that  at  six 
o'clock,  two  days  later,  war  was  declared.  The  seventy 
hours  or  so  intervening  were  full  of  military  preparations 
and  feverish  diplomacy;  the  former  intensified  because 
concealed,  the  latter  embittered  by  its  very  hopelessness. 

But  it  would  take  an  abler  pen  than  the,  one  now 
striving  to  piece  out  these  stray  pages  to  describe  those 
movements  of  great  armies,  or  the  thunder  of  shrieking 
trains  which  tore  towards  the  frontier  from  all  corners 
of  both  empires,  or  the  tears  and  prayers  which  rose 
like  some  thick  vapour,  and  rolled  in  dwindling  masses 
against  the  pitiless  heaven. 

Another  pen,  too,  must  describe  the  virtuous  indig- 
nation at  Berlin,  when  out  of  a  clear  sky  there  fell  a 
document  unpleasantly  like  an  ultimatum,  desiring  to 
know  the  meaning  of  that  military  restlessness  along  the 
western  frontier.  As  the  Imperial  Chancellor  plaintively 
exclaimed  to  one  of  his  subordinates,  he  was  not  aware 
of  any  especial  military  restlessness  along  the  western 
frontier;  in  his  opinion,  that  frontier  was  particularly 
quiet,  considering  the  number  of  troops  massed  thereon. 

He  was  old  and  sagacious,  and  knew  the  meaning  of 
war. 

But  the  young  blood  about  the  Council  table  was 
ready  enough  to  use  the  pretext  in  the  spirit  it  was 
given.  The  federal  princes,  not  to  mention  the  nu- 
merous scions  of  their  houses,  were  mostly  callow  and 
ardent.  They  were  also  a  trifle  weary  of  chanting  the 
praises  of  their  fathers,  the  "Empire  founders,"  and 
were  anxious  to  show  that  they  could  defend  what  the 
want  of  opportunity  alone  had  prevented  them  from 
winning.  The  same  spirit  pervaded  the  army,  though  in 
a  lesser  degree,  as  was  to  be  looked  for  in  men  of  thinner 
blood.  Count  Rumpenheim,  especially,  who  commanded 
in  chief,  had  long  ago  come  to  hate  those  frequent  pil- 
grimages to  the  shrine  of  the  great  strategist,  which — 
as  his  enemies  declared — were  the  only  things  the  latter 
had  left  him.  Accordingly,  defiance  met  defiance.  The 
telegraph  wires,  those  bearers  of  modern-day  gages 
clicked  out  their  miserable  task,  with  the  result  already 


314  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

known.  The  details  of  this  final  rupture  are  full  of  in- 
terest. But  they  should  be  looked  for  in  serious  his- 
tories, not  in  a  petty  domestic  chronicle,  which  can  essay 
such  minor  matters  as  the  vagaries  of  the  human  soul, 
or  eternity,  but  which  must  once  and  for  all  crave  per- 
mission to  leave  the  higher  politics  severely  alone. 

A  curious  feature  of  these  curious  days  was  the  apathy 
with  which  the  news  was  received  in  both  countries. 
The  actual  troops,  and  the  reservists  behind  them,  were 
naturally  filled  with  martial  ardour,  and  they  communi- 
cated it  to  their  relatives  in  diluted  doses.  A  delicious 
little  flutter,  too,  went  through  the  independent  classes; 
those  lucky  people  who  live  on  unearned  increment,  and 
who  can  breakfast  at  twelve,  and  spend  as  long  as  they 
like  over  the  morning  paper.  These  got  out  their  maps 
of  eastern  France  and  western  Germany,  and  purchased 
compasses  and  whole  hogsheads  of  pins.  Their  wives 
and  daughters,  at  the  same  time,  commenced  to  pluck 
lint  and  chop  up  the  lids  of  wooden  wine-boxes.  One 
or  two  bourses  had  feverish  days,  and  not  a  few  "ope- 
rators" had  feverish  nights.  Army  contractors,  from  the 
makers  of  ordnance  to  the  purveyors  of  adulterated 
groceries,  also  became  excited, — cheerfully  excited, 
these;  and  full  of  prayer  that  the  single  flame  might 
result  in  a  general  conflagration.  The  British  ship-owner 
shared  in  their  rejoicing,  hastening  to  collect  his  craft 
from  all  waters, — at  the  cost,  it  is  true,  of  many  a  broken 
charter-party,  and  the  consequent  innocent  delight  of 
those  middle-aged  gentlemen  who  charm  the  Queen's 
Bench  and  the  Admiralty  Divisions  with  their  eloquence — 
in  the  hope  of  French  expeditions  to  the  Elbe  and  Ger- 
man reprisals  on  the  lower  Seine.  One  patriotic  mer- 
chant went  so  far  as  to  offer  his  own  Admiralty  the  use 
of  his  line  of  China  tea-ships,  though  with  what  precise 
object,  this  offer  did  not  proceed  to  specify. 

But  these  were  the  limits  of  excitement. 

In  Paris  and  Berlin,  and  in  the  other  large  towns  of 
either  country,  men  went  to  and  fro  with  the  same  light- 
hearted  indifference,  or  the  same  apathetic  misery,  as 
had  marked  them  prior  to  the  happening  of  this  great 
event.  There  was  no  gathering  in  excited  clusters  along 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  315 

the  boulevards  or  Unter  den  Linden;  there  were  no 
huge  crowds  thronging  round  abducted  prima  donnas, 
and  clamouring  for  songs  of  war.  In  truth,  a  bitterness 
which  war  seemed — but  these  are  still  high  politics! 

The  indifference  of  the  streets  found  no  counterpart 
within  the  palace.  Interviews,  councils  of  war  and  state, 
despatches  from  every  town  in  France,  had  followed  each 
upon  each  with  breathless  rapidity.  So  much  so  indeed, 
that  now,  towards  the  evening  of  his  last  day  in  Paris, 
the  Emperor  seemed  to  have  reached  the  end  of  all 
preparations,  with  nothing  left  to  do  but  start  forthwith 
for  the  eastern  frontier. 

Appearances  may  have  been  deceptive.  Likely  as  not 
there  were  generals  and  officials  innumerable  still  to  be 
interrogated,  and  many  important  despatches  yet  to  be 
written.  Certainly,  hundreds  were  thronging  his  ante- 
chambers, all  waiting  and  praying  for  interviews,  on 
which — in  their  several  estimations,  at  least — hung  the 
whole  chance  of  the  war.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Napoleon's 
attitude  was  one  of  restless  idleness,  which  could  hardly 
endure  even  to  contemplate  the  twelve  hours  that  must 
elapse  before  his  departure. 

He  had  always  been  high-strung.  From  his  earliest 
youth,  the  least  thing  had  sufficed  to  unhinge  him  and 
rob  him  of  his  sleep  or  powers  of  application.  And  for 
this  reason — because  he  had  never  been  able  to  attain 
to  calm  under  petty  cares  and  worries — he  imagined  that 
his  nature  must  contain  vast  reserves  of  stoicism,  which 
it  only  needed  heroic  circumstances  to  summon  to  the 
surface.  He  "imagined";  for  he  imagined  so  still, 
while  he  wandered  restlessly  about  his  library,  turning 
from  every  attempted  occupation  with  equal  impatience. 
At  last  he  relinquished  the  struggle,  though  not  the 
faith.  Taking  his  stand  by  a  corner  window,  he  com- 
menced to  tap  listlessly  upon  the  glass. 

His  brain  whirled  under  the  memory  of  the  incidents 
of  the  last  few  days.  Especially  was  he  haunted  by  the 
recollection  of  that  first  interview  with  the  German  am- 
bassador on  the  Thursday  evening  preceding,  in  this 
very  room.  He  could  not  forget  the  deepening  gravity 
of  the  latter's  pleasant  face,  which,  for  the  one  brief 


3i6  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

second  after  he  had  grasped  the  full  bearing  of  the  Em- 
peror's words,  had  been  positively  distorted  by  rage 
and  disappointment.  The  blow  was  so  sudden,  and 
peace  had  been  his  pride.  To  be  sure,  the  look  was  only 
momentary,  and  at  once  gave  way  to  a  frigidly-polite 
demeanour,  preserved  to  the  end  of  the  interview;  but 
Napoleon  could  not  blot  out  the  ugly  picture  of  this  man 
standing  like  some  wild  beast  at  bay.  Then  there  were 
those  "soundings"  of  other  powers,  with  more  or  less 
equivocal  results;  and  those  furious  articles  in  the  Times, 
which  galled  and  disquieted  him  at  one  and  the  same 
moment.  No,  these  meditations  were  anything  but 
pleasant;  and  it  would  have  been  well  for  him  had  he 
been  able  to  throw  them  aside  and  bury  himself  in  some 
book  which  contained  no  single  reference  to  the  Conti- 
nental system,  historical  or  geographical. 

The  Grand  Chamberlain  broke  in  upon  his  listlessness. 
The  old  wretch's  business  proved  of  the  most  trifling 
character.  First  of  all,  he  delivered  a  message  from 
Felix,  to  the  effect  that  his  Highness  would  be  delighted 
to  act  as  regent  during  the  continuance  of  the  war. 
Napoleon  brushed  the  impertinence  contemptuously 
away. 

"  Carache  has  his  instructions." 

Secondly,  De  Morin  asked  a  place  among  the  pages 
for  Paul  de  Murinac,  the  grandson  of  his  dear  old  friend. 
Napoleon  brushed  that  aside,  but  without  comment.  So 
De  Morin  took  the  thing  as  agreed  and  made  a  note  of  it. 

Lastly,  the  old  gentleman  informed  his  nephew  that 
the  custom  obtained  to  set  aside  certain  of  the  smaller 
residences  as  homes  for  the  wounded  and  convalescent. 
On  this  point  he  sought  no  instructions. 

Then  he  embraced  his  kinsman,  "in  case  we  never 
meet  again,"  and  gave  him  a  time-table  showing  the 
best  connexions  with  Belgium,  and  so  ambled  away. 
But  his  intrusion  had  set  the  stream  of  visitors  and  de- 
spatches going  once  more.  Every  one  and  everything 
was  urgent,  refusing  to  take  any  denial.  The  butler 
quite  collapsed  under  the  strain,  and  was  eventually 
compelled  to  depute  his  duties  to  other  hands.  All 
things,  however,  must  end  in  time.  By  eleven  the  palace 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  317 

was  silent.  Napoleon  left  his  laden  desk,  and  walked 
across  the  passage  to  trifle  with  his  dinner. 

The  clock  struck  midnight  before  he  returned.  He 
glanced  with  genuine  dismay  at  the  work  that  remained 
still  to  be  completed.  He  flung  himself  in  an  arm-chair. 
With  vacant  eyes  fixed  upon  the  chandelier,  he  surveyed 
his  circumstances  with  equally  vacant  brain. 

The  war  was  none  of  his  seeking;  and,  try  as  he 
would,  he  could  not  summon  any  enthusiasm  for  it.  He 
felt  regretfully — though  also  in  the  most  apathetic  man- 
ner imaginable — that  it  was  far  too  soon  to  hazard  all 
the  pomps  and  pleasures  of  his  great  position.  The 
power,  such  as  it  was,  that  he  enjoyed,  the  respect  which 
he  received,  the  luxury  wherein  he  lived,  all  were  very 
dear  to  him;  while  he  reflected  with  some  bitterness  that 
none  of  those  more  especially  sweet  sensations,  so  con- 
fidently looked  for  at  the  outset  of  his  reign,  had  as  yet 
been  vouchsafed  to  him  by  the  otherwise  complacent 
gods.  Not  one  of  the  friends  of  his  earlier  days  had 
visited  him,  or  given  him  a  chance  of  displaying  for  their 
admiration  his  perfectly  natural  and  modest  demeanour. 
His  former  enemies — mostly  those  who  he  had  imagined 
disliked  him — showed  themselves  equally  shy  and  unin- 
trusive;  and  the  biting  scorn  which  he  had  rehearsed  for 
more  than  one  who  in  the  past  had  been  guilty  of  some 
real  or  fancied  lightness  towards  his  hidden  Highness, 
remained,  alas,  nothing  but  an  ardent  dream. 

The  great  one,  too,  of  that  now  faded  horizon,  whom 
he  had  most  envied,  to  wit,  the  Lord  High  Chancellor  of 
England,  went  on  witnessing  any  number  of  summonses 
which  reeked  of  Bell  Yard  and  bad  beer,  but  never  would 
adventure  himself  across  the  straits  that  he  might  behold 
the  dazzling  elevation  of  an  obscure  member  of  his  own 
profession.  The  judges,  those  lesser  luminaries,  who — 
to  his  fevered  brain — had  been  wont  to  cast  many  a 
pitying  glance  at  his  sodden  brieflessness,  stayed  severely 
away,  preferring  Norwegian  fiords  and  Scottish  moun- 
tains to  the  courtly  patronage  which  awaited  them  at 
the  Palace  of  the  Elysee.  The  English  Home  Secretary 
(another  of  his  worries  in  bygone  days)  seemed  satisfied 
with  the  contemplation  of  his  own  magnificence. 


3iS  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Accordingly,  our  hero  had  to  content  himself  with  the 
actual  reverence  and  envy  meted  out  to  him  by  his  own 
subjects.  There  was  plenty  of  it,  and  it  came  very 
sweetly  to  his  bourgeois  soul,  as  did  the  heavy  robe  of 
purple  and  ermine  which  hung  around  him  on  state  occa- 
sions. For  the  rest,  he  was  forced  to  believe  that  among 
his  old  friends  and  enemies  he  formed  the  one  engrossing 
theme  of  conversation. 

Another  grievance  lay  in  this:  the  labour  expended 
on  the  conduct  of  affairs  seemed  likely  to  be  altogether 
wasted.  What  profit  that  he  rose  at  five — a  habit  en- 
gendered by  the  example  of  other  monarchs — and  toiled 
sometimes  till  midnight?  What  profit  indeed  to  pore 
over  plans  for  a  bridge  for  Vienne  or  a  breakwater  for 
Brieuc,  if,  before  ever  those  works  were  completed,  he 
should  find  himself  a  nameless  fugitive,  with  the  break- 
water and  bridge  left  behind  him  to  embellish  the  epoch 
of  the  fourth  Republic?  Ah,  no  profit  at  all;  and  these 
hours  would  be  just  as  much  wasted  as  those  had  been 
which  he  had  spent  sitting  briefless  in  his  desolate 
chambers. 

Muriel  ended  the  procession.  And  well  she  might. 
Her  word  had  done  its  little  part  towards  the  war.  She, 
more  than  many,  had  finally  decided  him.  He  could 
admit  as  much,  communing  thus  with  his  own  heart  and  in 
his  chamber.  He  began  to  see  the  face  he  loved;  and 
beginning,  pined  for  Meaux. 

But  he  pushed  this  last  phantom  vigorously  aside. 
He  still  was  able.  And  he  reverted  to  those  less  disturb- 
ing ruminations  over  royal  splendour  so  soon  to  pass 
away. 

So  he  sank  back  into  discontented  dreams:  and  pres- 
ently Godefroy  crept  in  on  tiptoe  and  turned  out  the 
lamps  which  stood  about  his  master's  table,  as  well  as 
the  gas-jets,  save  one,  which  he  left,  a  glimmering  star  to 
illumine  the  surrounding  waste.  On  his  way  back  to  the 
door,  the  servant  passed  close  to  Napoleon's  chair. 

"The  poor  little  one,"  said  he  softly,  his  hand  for  a 
brief  instant  upon  the  other's  shoulder,  "the  poor  little 
one.  He  will  sink  under  the  burden  like  all  the  rest," 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  319 

and  he  glided  out,  leaving  the  shadows  to  surround  and 
swallow  the  sleeping  form. 

When  Bonaparte  awoke,  it  was  to  feel  the  sun  about 
his  brow.  He  rose  as  though  he  had  never  been  asleep, 
and  followed  its  rays  onto  the  balcony.  He  found  the 
calm  of  early  morning.  Even  yet,  the  walls  around  him 
moved  from  violet  to  purple.  The  light  air,  not  yet  dis- 
coloured by  smoke  or  summer  haze,  fanned  him,  fevered 
as  the  night  had  made  him.  He  drank  it  in  longingly. 

The  faint  sound  of  music  reached  his  ear.  It  grew — 
as  the  dawn  had  grown — it  swelled  into  a  stirring  march. 
"Troops  bound  for  the  war!"  he  muttered,  his  gloom 
returning.  They  proved  the  Eightieth  of  the  line,  a 
regiment  lately  garrisoned  at  Orleans.  Neither  the 
bandsmen  nor  the  foremost  companies  noticed  the  dumpy 
figure.  But  a  young  subaltern,  recalling,  no  doubt, 
some  wistful  face  left  behind,  looked  skyward  to  crease 
out  his  tears,  and  thus  caught  sight  of  Majesty.  He 
recognized  him  at  once.  "  Vive  L'Empereur!  "  he  cried, 
saluting  smartly  with  his  sword.  Napoleon  waved  back 
an  acknowledgment.  All  took  up  the  cry.  A  shout 
of  triumph  went  to  heaven  and  the  balcony.  Bonaparte 
felt  a  strange  joy  at  his  heart.  And  when,  in  the  midst 
of  a  lull,  a  pert  recruit  from  the  Loire  bawled  out  "  Au 
revoir  a  Sedan,  Monsieur,"  the^  Emperor  bawled  back 
the  more  dangerous  memory,  "  A  Berlin." 


Chapter   VIII 


Half-way  up  a  certain  valley  of  the  Moselle  lies  the 
little  town  of  Pont-a-Mousson,  beautifully  placed  amid 
rolling  hills,  and  almost  in  a  straight  line  between  Metz 
and  Paris. 

Its  ordinary  atmosphere  is  deep  calm,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  a  stiff  walk  five  miles  eastward  will  bring  a 
man  out  onto  the  frontier.  The  two  countries  have 
marched  in  peace  for  nigh  thirty  years;  and  even  now, 
on  this  August  afternoon,  with  a  crowned  Bonaparte 
hurrying  thither  from  the  capital,  the  spot  was  wrapped 
in  sunlit  stillness  which  gave  no  sign  of  those  huge  armies 
scattered  about  the  border  from  Montmedy  to  Belfort. 
The  streets  were  empty.  Not  a  dog  stirred  along  the 
heated  pavements.  Such  wayfarers  as  were  abroad  kept 
to  the  shelter  of  the  arcades.  One  or  two  loafers 
sprawled  about  the  cafes;  and  a  party  of  merry  children 
sat  devouring  ices  round  a  table  at  the  principal  con- 
fectioner's. 

Pont-a-Mousson,  be  it  said,  is  not  a  town  of  much 
importance.  The  guide-book  will  tell  you  about  its 
Place  Duroc,  or  its  Maison  des  Septs  Peche"s  Capitaux; 
but  to  Napoleon  it  had  a  significance  of  a  different  kind. 
As  he  came  upon  it  from  Frouard,  and  caught  a  first 
glimpse  of  its  outstanding  houses,  he  felt  convinced  that 
the  placid-looking  city  was  to  be  the  name-place  of  yet 
another  tragedy.  Its  beauty  afforded  him  no  refresh- 
ment, though  he  saw  it  after  the  dust  and  fatigue  of  a 
seven-hours'  journey.  Rather  the  contrary ! — He  regarded 
it  at  best  as  a  jewel  about  to  be  plucked  from  the  Im- 
perial crown.  He  could  feel  no  sort  of  confidence  in 
little  General  Mesnil,  who  went  composedly  forward, 
twiddling  his  thumbs,  blinking  his  little  ferret  eyes,  and 
320 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  321 

deftly  manipulating  a  game,  the  very  rudiments  of  which 
were  a  sealed  book  to  his  master. 

The  journey  from  Paris  had  not  been  a  triumphal 
progress.  Majesty  had  only  met  with  a  qualified  recep- 
tion along  the  route;  he  was  consequently  very  glum  and 
silent.  The  commander-in-chief — the  only  other  occu- 
pant of  the  Imperial  carriage — did  not  suffer  himself  to 
be  infected.  He  prattled  away  with  delightful  inno- 
cence. He  pointed  out  the  various  objects  of  beauty  to 
be  seen  from  the  carriage  windows,  though  he  took  care 
not  to  refer  to  their  strategical  significance.  Indeed, 
he  avoided  "shop"  of  any  sort;  while  his  appearance 
hardly  betokened  a  great  general  about  to  guide  the 
movements  of  over  two  million  men.  His  uniform  was 
shabby  and  ill-fitting.  He  had  discarded  his  kepi,  such 
as  it  was,  at  the  outset  of  the  journey,  and  his  head  was 
now  swathed  in  a  skull-cap  of  palatial  dimensions.  His 
hand-packages  filled  both  racks.  He  had  dragged  them 
into  the  carriage,  under  the  pretext  that  they  contained 
maps.  Towards,  mid-day,  however,  he  had  gone  to  them 
for  quite  other  kind  of  nutriment.  Every  bag  and  box  had 
furnished  its  quota,  whether  of  brandy  or  sandwiches  or 
fruit,  towards  his  lunch.  To  crown  all,  he  kept  up  a  thin 
trickle  of  conversation  throughout  the  entire  journey; 
that  is,  except  when  he  was  eating,  and  even  then  he 
tried  hard  to  combine  his  gulps  with  easy  demonstration. 
Not  that  he  really  demonstrated.  He  chatted  about 
everything  save  business.  Now  and  again  the  Emperor 
strove  to  decoy  him  into  the  strategic  value  of  some  hill 
or  valley  or  river  alongside  of  which  they  might  happen 
to  be  passing.  He  could  always  avoid  an  answer,  diverg- 
ing instead  into  another  topic  all-engrossing,  such  as  the 
inner  arrangements  of  one  of  his  beef  sandwiches. 

''This  is  Frouard!  "  he  burst  out,  when  they  were 
approaching  that  town;  "  one  changes  here  for  Nancy. 
Now,"  he  shouted  a  few  minutes  later,  "we  enter  the 
valley  of  the  Moselle!  that  is  the  Moselle."  So  he  went 
on,  and  so  he  had  gone  on,  in  an  even  more  incessant 
strain,  from  their  first  minute  together.  Small  wonder 
then  that  Napoleon  hailed  the  distinguishable  "  clank  " 
of  the  carriages  which  heralded  the  journey's  end. 


322  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Mesnil  jumped  briskly  onto  the  cushioned  seat  to 
collect  his  hand-things.  "I  trust  very  much,"  he  ex- 
claimed, in  the  intervals  of  getting  an  unwieldy  bag  onto 
the  floor, — "  I  trust  very  much  that  there  will  be  porters 
at  Pont-a-Mousson."  He  dashed  to  the  window,  and, 
craning  his  head  forward,  endeavoured  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  station  platform.  He  drew  it  in  with  a  sigh  of 
relief.  "Yes,"  he  murmured,  "  I  see  some." 

There  were,  besides,  half  a  dozen  general  officers,  a 
brace  of  mayors,  three  prefects,  and  most  of  the  leading 
citizens.  Napoleon  had  to  listen  to  a  patriotic  welcome, 
which  was  drawn  up,  moreover,  upon  the  assumption  that 
General  Mesnil,  "but  yesterday  the  obscure  command- 
ant of  a  garrison  town,  to-day  the  director,  under  his 
Majesty,  of  the  entire  army,"  would  be  stationed  in  a 
modest  attitude  on  the  Imperial  right  hand.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  the  director  of  the  entire  army  was  far  more 
profitably  employed.  He  had  gone  off  to  have  a  look  at 
his  luggage;  and  although  the  station-master  assured 
him  that  the  van  would  go  on  entire  to  Pagny,  he  insisted 
upon  breaking  bulk,  and  carrying  off  a  little  square 
wooden  case,  asserting  roundly  that  it  contained  plans 
priceless  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice.  "  I  mean  to 
keep  it  henceforth  by  me,"  he  said  emphatically.  This 
small  matter  unfortunately  diverted  him  from  his  bags 
and  hat-boxes.  As  a  result,  over-zealous  officials  car- 
ried them  to  the  carts  outside.  Breathless  with  agita- 
tion,he  flew  up  and  down  the  platform,  asking  of  all  men 
whether  they  had  noticed  any  goods  marked  "M. " 
Before  long  he  reached  the  group  round  the  Emperor. 
General  Changarnier  prevented  him  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  from  rushing  up  to  the  Mayor  and  inquiring 
what  the  devil  that  potentate  had  done  with  his  be- 
longings. 

"General  Mesnil,"  said  Napoleon,  when  they  were 
once  more  alone,  in  one  of  the  larger  sitting-rooms  of 
the  hotel,  "you  and  I  must  have  a  little  talk  about 
business." 

"By  all  means,  sire,"  the  other  replied;  but  he  made 
no  attempt  to  seat  himself,  although  the  Emperor  mo- 
tioned him  to  a  chair  already  drawn  up  to  the  table.  He 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  323 

was  standing  by  the  doorway,  buttoning  on  white  kid 
gloves,  and  he  had  changed  his  uniform  for  a  brighter 
and  a  newer  one.  "  By  all  means,  sire,"  he  repeated  in 
the  most  accommodating  manner,  but  he  still  went  on 
buttoning  his  gloves,  and  edged  one  step  nearer  the 
door  with  every  fresh  button  achieved. 

"Won't  you  sit  down?  "  the  Emperor  asked. 

"  No,  no,  your  Majesty  must  rest.  You  look  pale 
and  fatigued. " 

A  spasm  shot  across  the  young  man's  heart — not  a 
real  one,  but  a  fancied  one,  which  was  very  nasty  all  the 
same.  This  always  happened  whenever  any  one  criti- 
cised his  physical  appearance. 

"  O,  I  feel  well  enough,"  he  said  nervously. 

Mesnil  pursued  his  advantage.  "Your  looks,  then, 
belie  you.  Two  or  three  times  in  the  train  this  after- 
noon I  thought  you  were  on  the  point  of  fainting." 

"  I  assure  you  I  feel  quite  well.  Oblige  me  by  doing 
what  I  ask." 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  desire  to  do  a  little  shopping. 
I  positively  must  purchase  some  soap  and  a  sponge-bag. " 

Napoleon  could  not  stifle  a  groan  of  impatience. 
"  Cannot  your  servant  do  these  things  for  you?  " 

"  He  is  at  Pagny  with  my  trunk. " 

"You  are  trying  to  make  me  ridiculous,"  cried  the 
Emperor,  lashing  himself  into  a  sudden  fury.  "You 
must  stay  and — and — have  a  short  consultation  with  me. 
I  insist  upon  it.  The  soap  must  wait." 

Mesnil  bowed,  and  advanced  a  few  steps  into  the 
room." 

"  Be  seated,  if  you  please,"  curtly. 

Mesnil  bowed  again  and  sank  into  the  chair.  But  his 
kepi  lay  to  his  hand,  while  he  made  no  attempt  to  re- 
move his  gloves,  though  it  was  easy  to  see  that  these 
elegant  garments  helped  to  fan  the  flame.  He  was  per- 
fectly respectful.  His  little  twinkling  eyes  gazed  into 
Napoleon's  with  absolute  calm;  and  the  fussy,  trifling 
demeanour,  which  was  his  usual  one,  had  departed,  and 
left  him  a  quiet,  somewhat  ordinary,  little  gentleman, 
with  clean-shaven  and  wrinkled  face,  no  hair  to  speak  of, 
four  foot  and  a  third  of  height,  and  a  gorgeous  uniform. 


324  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Napoleon  cast  about  him  for  a  fit  beginning;  it  was  a 
painful  process. 

"  I  have  fixed  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  for  a  coun- 
cil of  war,"  said  he  at  last,  and  he  marvelled  at  the 
thinness  of  his  voice.  "It  will  take  place  at  Pagny,  I 
need  hardly  say." 

"I  sincerely  trust  that  your  Majesty  will  counter- 
mand that  order." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  cannot  consent  to  discuss  my  plans  with 
any  one  save  yourself." 

"  Suppose  I  command?  " 

"Then  you  must  find  another  Chief  of  the  Staff." 

' '  Your  words  amount  to  a  threat ! ' '  the  Emperor  cried 
with  great  vehemence. 

"  His  Majesty  must  place  whatever  construction  upon 
them  he  desires." 

There  ensued  an  uncomfortable  interval  of  silence. 
The  Emperor  broke  it;  and  his  voice  was  a  shade  softer. 

"General,  you  are  a  little  premature.  I  have  not 
said  that  the  council  was  to  criticise  your  plans.  What 
if  it  is  merely  to  take  your  orders?  " 

"Not  the  least  difference.  I  should  prefer  to  give 
them  my  orders  separately." 

"Very1  well,  have  it  your  own  way,"  and  Napoleon 
laughed  nervously,  while  a  look  of  miserable  doubt 
passed  across  his  face.  It  was  a  look  which  said  very 
plainly,  "I  don't  know  whether  or  no  I  am  playing  the 
part  of  a  great  commander,  or  whether  I  shall  be  suf- 
fered to  enter  upon  that  role  at  any  future  time  in  this  busi- 
ness; but  I  have  never  had  an  opportunity  of  learning 
strategy,  and  that  is  my  misfortune." 

"You,  sire,  will  have  all  the  glory." 

"Really,  my  dear  Chief,  you  seem  very  certain  of 
victory.  Furthermore," — and  he  assumed  a  look  of 
intense  sternness — "  each  of  us  will  get  what  honour  he 
deserves." 

But  sternness  was  of  no  avail.  Mesnil  merely  gazed 
serenely  back.  So  Napoleon  dropped  his  frown,  seeking 
comfort  in  a  survey  of  his  finger-nails.  It  was  very  curi- 
ous, all  this,  and  quite  unlike  his  preconceived  notions 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  335 

concerning  the  reticence  and  general  correctness  certain 
to  mark  the  behaviour  of  a  great  monarch  and  his  first 
lieutenant.  He  supposed  Mesnil  knew  more  about  these 
matters  than  himself;  but  to  his  mind  the  transactions 
so  far  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  company-promoting. 

"I  have  still  another  request  to  make  of  your  Ma- 
jesty." 

"Well?" 

"  May  I  be  excused  from  discussing  my  plan«  even 
with  you? " 

"But—" 

"At  all  events  till  to-morrow  morning.  I  am  expect- 
ing important  despatches  from  Epinal:  they  should  be 
here  every  minute:  and  then — " 

With  dramatic  suddenness  there  came  a  tap  at  the 
door. 

"A  telegram  from  Epinal  for  his  Majesty's  Chief  of 
the  Staff." 

Napoleon  took  the  despatches  and  handed  them  on 
to  Mesnil. 

And  then — ?  "  said  he. 

"And  then  I  shall  beg  for  a  few  hours  in  which  to 
consider  them,"  and  he  gently  lifted  his  ke"pi  from  the 
table. 

"I  suppose  you  must  have  your  way,"  sighed  Na- 
poleon. 

Mesnil  rose,  bowed,  and  passed  on  tip-toe  out  of  the 
room.  He  sought  his  own  apartment,  which  was  directly 
above  the  Emperor's,  and  full  as  pleasant,  having  been 
fitted  up  by  mine  host,  with  a  view  to  expediting  his 
meditations.  The  General  deposited  the  unopened  tele- 
gram upon  the  green-cloth  card-table,  which  the  land- 
lord had  imported  thither,  because — as  he  had  told  his 
wife — it  reminded  him  of  the  Congress  of  Berlin.  He 
then  proceeded  to  have  a  draught  of  water.  Next,  he 
consulted  the  looking-glass,  and  smoothed  down  the 
wispy  hair  which,  to  his  practiced  eye,  had  evidently  got 
ruffled  in  the  late  encounter.  These  duties  done  with 
intense  deliberation,  he  turned  to  the  news  from  Epinal. 
He  took  it  up  languidly,  seating  himself  on  the  pillow  of 
his  bed,  and  read  it  through  twice  with  the  utmost  calm- 


326  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

ness.  It  was  from  General  Clisserole.  It  was  evi- 
dently what  he  wanted,  so  he  went  out  for  another  little 
promenade. 

The  Hotel  de  France  next  morning  was  early  astir. 
The  thunder  of  cannon,  though  faint  and  intermittent, 
had  yet  been  heard  distinctly  all  through  the  night. 
Towards  dawn  the  ominous  noise  seemed  to  come  closer, 
and  those  who  were  awake  and  watching  felt  it  their 
duty  to  arouse  the  Emperor. 

It  was  an  easy  task.  Major  Gorin, — Bonvalet'sGorin, 
— the  officer  of  the  guard,  did  not  need  knock  twice  at 
the  door  of  the  outer  bedroom  where  Godefroy  lay 
garbed  in  his  trousers  and  semi-military  ulster.  The 
unhappy  butler  had  passed  hours  listening  to  the  first 
low  mutterings  of  the  storm.  His  head  was  throbbing 
with  fatigue.  Gorin's  unimpassioned  summons  came 
upon  him  at  the  moment  he  first  lost  consciousness.  It 
sounded  like  a  pistol-shot. 

He  started  up  quivering. 

"  Who  is  there?  "  he  shouted  in  tremulous  voice.  "  If 
it  's  the  Prussians,  I  sha'n't  open." 

Gorin,  his  mind  busy  elsewhere,  suffered  himself  to 
be  betrayed  into  a  burst  of  laughter.  He  stifled  this  in- 
decorous mirth,  but  only  succeeded  in  rendering  its 
sound  the  more  coarse  and  brutal.  Godefroy  shivered. 

"I  know  who  you  are,"  he  murmured,  prostrate, 
"you  are  the  Emperor  William.  Go  away!  I  am  sur- 
prised at  your  want  of  tact." 

Napoleon,  from  his  inner  chamber,  could  hear  every 
word.  He,  too,  reclined,  half-dressed  and  in  a  feverish 
doze,  ready  for  any  emergency.  Springing  to  the  floor, 
he  hurried  through  and  admitted  Gorin.  The  officer 
quickly  imparted  the  cause. 

"Have  you  awakened  General  Mesnil?  "  he  asked, 
before  anything  else. 

"  No,  sire." 

Napoleon  was  visibly  relieved.  "  You  did  well,  Major 
Gorin,  to  come  first  to  me.  Perhaps  you  had  better 
wake  him,  though.  Tell  him  I  await  him  in  my  sitting- 
room." 

The  sound  of  cannon  still  continued,  but  at  longer 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  327 

intervals.  It  wrung  Napoleon's  heart.  Each  rever- 
beration seemed  fraught  with  carnage.  His  was  the 
guilty  hand ;  he  felt  that  it  was  stained  with  blood. 

If  only  he  had  obeyed  the  promptings  of  his  con- 
science! 

He  returned  to  snatch  up  coat  and  sword,  and,  com- 
pleting his  toilet  as  he  ran,  fled  down  the  stairs.  The 
sitting-room  smelt  sickly  and  unwholesome,  but  he  had 
not  leisure  to  open  windows.  He  strode  up  and  down, 
up  and  down,  waiting  angrily  for  Mesnil,  and  every  now 
and  then  hearing  that  terrible  sound  of  cannon  which 
echoed  through  his  brain.  The  morning  air  began  to 
chill  his  bones.  The  dawn  delayed  unconscionably.  So 
did  the  General.  Napoleon  waited  five  minutes,  and 
then  set  off  in  person  to  rouse  the  sluggard. 

Major  Gorin  had  got  no  farther  than  Mesnil's  un- 
opened door. 

"  I  have  knocked  a  dozen  times,"  he  told  his  master. 
"I  believe  he  has  barricaded  himself  in  with  a  chest  of 
drawers. " 

At  that  moment  the  answer  came. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  want?  " 

The  Major  informed  him  that  it  was  his  Majesty's 
commands  that  he  should  be  roused.  There  had  been  a 
heavy  cannonade  all  through  the  night,  from  the  south- 
east. Though  now  slackening,  it  was  also  coming  closer. 

"  From  the  southeast?"  the  Chief  of  the  Staff  inquired. 

"From  the  southeast,"  the  Major  replied.  A  brief 
silence  ensued.  They  could  hear  the  General  fumbling  with 
his  pillow :  presently  what  sounded  like  a  china  candlestick 
fell  with  a  crash  to  the  floor.  Then  followed  the  crack- 
ling of  stiff  paper. 

"  From  beyond  Nancy,  I  suppose?"  he  said  at  last. 

The  Major  imagined  so. 

"  It  is  quite  clear,"  Mesnil  said  emphatically.  "  That 
blasted  fool  Breheville  has  been  trying  to  hold  the  line 
of  the  Vezouse.  Telegraph  him  at  once  to  Luneville, 
and  bid  him  keep  to  the  Meurthe,  as  I  ordered." 

Gorin  bowed  to  the  door-handle.  "Very  good,  Gen- 
eral. Shall  I  also  wire  to  Marainvillers?  General  Brehe- 
ville may  be  absent  from  Luueville. " 


328  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  He  won't  be  at  Marainvillers — that  is,  unless  the 
Germans  have  got  him,"  and  a  grim  chuckle  floated 
across  the  barricades. 

Gorin  turned  away.  "Hi!  "  shouted  the  Chief  after 
him,  "  come  back.  Send  a  telegram  also  to  Clisserole  at 
Epinal.  Tell  him,  if  he  does  n't  keep  Br6heville  in  order, 
I  '11  invite  his  Majesty  to  chop  off  both  their  heads, 
when  we  get  'em  back  to  town.  They  've  both  got  their 
orders,  let  them  follow  them."  The  General  swathed 
his  head  in  the  bedclothes.  "I  cannot  add  more,"  said 
he,  his  voice  much  muffled.  "If  his  Majesty  has  risen, 
tell  him  to  go  to  bed  again."  Had  the  two  men  tarried 
there  five  minutes  longer  they  would  have  heard  faint 
sounds  of  snoring, — irregular  indeed, — but  replete  with 
comfort  and  suggestive  of  perfect  peace. 

Four  hours  later,  joy  and  exquisite  sunshine  filled  the 
streets  of  Pagny-sur-Moselle.  The  Emperor  had  just 
arrived,  and  was  on  his  way  to  Imperial  headquarters, 
La  Grange-en-Haye,  a  small  farmhouse  perched  among 
the  gentle  hills  behind  the  town.  Majesty  received  quite 
an  ovation  along  the  route.  It  did  n't  comfort  him 
much.  A  man  cannot  be  very  cheerful  after  being  roused 
at  five  to  listen  to  cannon. 

Mesnil  jogged  along  some  two  horses'-lengths  behind 
his  master.  The  dashing  Changarnier  rode  beside  him. 

"What  keeps  you  so  silent,  Mesnil?  "  the  latter  asked, 
a  look  of  anxiety  passing  across  his  bloated  face. 

The  other  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Surely  you  would  not  have  me  sing?  If  you  must 
know,  I  am  wondering  what  brings  Mademoiselle  Leduc 
here."  He  nodded  in  the  direction  of  a  balcony  just 
above  them  on  their  left.  It  was  shaded  with  a  pink 
and  white  striped  awning,  while  beautiful  flowers  peeped 
out  from  among  the  carnation-coloured  railings,  and 
formed  a  suitable  bower  for  so  much  loveliness.  Chan- 
garnier rapped  out  a  horrible  oath,  without,  however, 
varying  the  genial  smile  which  shone  forth  from  his 
blood-stained  eyes. 

"That  blasted  Prehlen  is  up  to  some  of  his  tricks. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  him,  and  for — for — we  should 
have  had  the  Russians  fighting  with  us  in  this  business." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  329 

"Who  knows?" 

"I  do.  Carache  mismanaged  the  business  badly, 
damn  him.  And  of  course  the — of  course  there  is  no 
one  to  keep  the  blasted  fool  in  hand,"  and  Changarnier 
glared  at  the  bent  figure  in  front  of  them.  The  next 
minute  his  blood-red  visage  was  wreathed  in  smiles. 
"General,  his  Majesty  is  beckoning  you." 

"There  will  be  news  from  Luneville  over  at  the  camp?" 
the  Emperor  commenced,  as  soon  as  Mesnil  was  abreast. 

"  Yes,  bad  news." 

"Thanks,  that  is  all  I  desired  to  know."  Mesnil 
bowed  and  fell  back.  Napoleon  resumed  his  look  of 
studied  calm.  For  a  short  time  he  made  no  change  in 
the  easy  trot  at  which  they  were  proceeding.  By  and 
by  he  set  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  three  minutes  later  the 
whole  cavalcade  was  sweeping  along  in  a  cloud  of  dust 
towards  the  farmhouse  of  La  Grange-en-Haye,  the  Im- 
perial headquarters. 

For  once  the  omniscient  Mesnil  had  gone  astray. 
Telegrams  telling  of  a  French  retreat  awaited  them  at 
the  farm,  but  the  details  were  less  unpleasant  than  might 
have  been  expected.  As  the  Chief  of  the  Staff  had  con- 
jectured, Bre"heville  had  tried  to  hold  the  line  of  the 
Vezouse,  and  had  failed.  With  the  Germans  about  three 
to  one — Mesnil  was  careful  to  explain — he  could  hardly 
have  hoped  otherwise.  But  he  had  retired  in  perfect 
order  to  Luneville,  and  was  now  behind  the  Meurthe, 
his  righc  wing  in  touch  with  Dreyfus  at  St.  Die,  his  re- 
treat clear  to  Epinal,  where  Clisserole  lay  ready  to  re-en- 
force him  at  a  moment's  notice.  The  worst  feature  of 
last  night's  encounter  was  the  desperate  conflict  which 
waged  for  close  on  two  hours  round  the  village  of  Marain- 
villers,  and  which  resulted  in  the  almost  total  destruc- 
tion of  a  French  regiment — "the  Eightieth!"  said 
Mesnil,  going  through  the  various  telegrams. 

"The  Eightieth!"  shouted  Napoleon;  "they  can 
barely  have  reached  Luneville  yesterday  afternoon." 

Mesnil  looked  surprised.  "  That  is  so,  your  Majesty. 
They  were  delayed  twenty-four  hours  at  Orleans." 

"And  you  mean  to  tell  me  they  went  into  action  the 


330  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  It  appears  so." 

Napoleon  declared  that  the  thing  was  scandalous, 
and  Mesnil  agreed  with  him.  "  Breheville, "  the  latter 
grumbled,  "  had  strict  orders  not  to  fight  east  of  the 
Meurthe.  He  had  no  business  to  be  at  Marainvillers  at 
all." 

"Go  on,"  cried  the  Emperor  with  a  shrug  of  disgust 
that  was  not  all  pretence.  But  not  much  more  remained 
to  tell.  Breheville  trusted,  in  language  as  modest  as 
telegraphic  language  can  be,  that  the  next  forty-eight 
hours  would  bring  him  a  chance  of  redeeming  his  char- 
acter, and  that  was  all. 

Alas,  that  these  sanguine  expectations  should  prelude 
an  afternoon  of  terrors! 

The  first  note  of  evil  reached  headquarters  close  on 
mid-day.  Breheville,  misled  by  clouds  of  Bavarian 
uhlans,  who  would  persist  in  heading  towards  St.  Die, 
had  kept  continually  moving  in  a  southeasterly  direction ; 
while  the  inarticulate  Klein,  commandant  of  Nancy, 
could  n't  be  got  to  budge  from  his  shaded  pavements; 
that  was  all  to  begin  with;  and  the  wording  of  the  tele- 
gram, indicating  as  it  did  that  Klein  was  already  ap- 
prised of  some  mistake,  gave  hope  that  he  would  be  able 
to  rectify  it  before  too  late. 

But  two  o'clock  brought  tidings  of  genuine  disaster. 
"Ten  thousand  Bavarians  have  crossed  the  Meurthe  at 
Varangeville-St.  Nicholas,  eight  miles  below  this  city," 
wailed  Klein.  "  Direct  communications  with  Breheville 
no  longer  possible.  Line  to  Luneville,  St.  Die,  and 
Epinal  intercepted.  Have  informed  Clisserole." 

Napoleon  and  his  staff  were  returning  from  a  general 
inspection  when  this  message  was  put  into  Mesnil's 
hands.  The  latter  passed  it  to  his  master  directly  they 
were  alone  together  in  the  farmhouse  dining-room.  For 
very  shame,  the  Emperor,  with  his  heart  throbbing,  forced 
himself  to  copy  the  other's  imperturbable  demeanour, 
while  he  waited  with  a  sickening  dread  for  him  to  speak. 
But  the  General  was  plunged  in  a  profound  reverie, 
which  might  have  lasted  hours,  had  the  usually  silent 
Klein  permitted.  The  Lieutenant-Colonel's  messages 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  331 

came  pouring  in  in  reckless  profusion.  The  ten  thousand 
Bavarians  soon  swelled  into  an  army.  They  were  coming 
northwards  towards  Nancy.  They  were  moving  south  to 
cut  off  Breheville  from  Epinal.  He,  Klein,  had  sent 
repeated  messages  to  Clisserole,  but  without  result.  He 
was  himself  ready  to  face  the  enemy,  and  only  waited 
for  instructions. 

"He  shall  go  at  once,"  Napoleon  cried,  all  excite- 
ment; "these  people  must  not  cross  the  Moselle." 

"With  all  respect  to  your  Majesty,"  said  the  still 
thoughtful  Mesnil,  "  Klein  must  stay  where  he  is.  He 
must  guard  the  Malze"ville  gate.  This  little  job  is  for 
Clisserole,  and  for  no  one  else." 

The  General  sank  a  second  time  into  dreams.  "Yes," 
he  repeated  before  long,  "  Clisserole  will  have  to  tackle 
these  people.  The  only  thing  is  where  1 " 

The  next  minute  "these  people  "  were  kind  enough 
to  answer  the  question.  For,  while  Mesnil  was  still 
rapt  in  thought,  a  telegram  purporting  to  come  from 
General  Breheville  was  laid  upon  the  table.  It  told  with 
military  precision  how  that  the  enemy  had  crossed  the 
Meurthe,  and  was  now  marching  to  the  line  of  the 
Mortaigne  with  a  view  to  cutting  off  Clisserole  from  his 
lieutenant,  the  sender.  "Which  is  absurd,"  cried  Mes- 
nil, and  he  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  "In  the  first  place, 
Breheville  is  no  longer  able  to  telegraph  via  Nancy. 
Secondly,  what  in  God's  name  should  the  Prussians  want 
down  at  Rambervillers.  They  have  sent  this  message 
themselves:  they  fancy  they  are  in  Zululand.  I'll  be 
even  with  them  yet."  So  saying,  the  little  gentleman 
sprang  forward  to  the  table,  seized  pen  and  paper,  and 
commenced  to  scribble  unciphered  instructions  to  Bre"he- 
ville  and  Douay  at  St.  Die.  He  bade  them  to  continue 
to  watch  the  Meurthe  from  Luneville  to  Fraize;  and  to 
keep  irregulars  along  the  hills  about  La  Plaine,  even 
unto  the  Donon  if  they  could, — "Clisserole  has  orders 
to  march  on  Rambervillers.  If  that  do  n't  bring  'em 
post  haste  to  Pont  St.  Vincent,"  he  concluded,  with  an 
evil  snigger,  "my  name's  not  Claude  Augustus." 

Napoleon   watched   him,    himself    helpless    and   be- 


332  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

wildered.  Everything  seemed  so  simple,  yet  he  dared 
not  make  a  suggestion.  He  could  not  so  much  as  think 
of  one  that  seemed  in  the  least  degree  reasonable. 

"  Clisserole  must  make  a  dash  for  Pont  St.  Vincent," 
Mesnil  went  on;  "the  railway  is — " 

"But,  my  dear  General,"  the  Emperor  broke  in  des- 
perately, "  why  bring  him  thirty-six  miles  northwards? 
Have  we  not  an  army  corps  at  Toul?  " 

"  B-r-r-r — we  will  not  talk  about  that,  if  you  please. 
I  have  other  work  for  them." 


Chapter    IX 


"Why  not  Klein?  "  Napoleon  persisted. 

"I  have  told  you,  sire,  Klein  must  remain  at  Nancy. 
I  want  to  keep  him  fresh  for  Mayence,  please  God." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  every  town  along  the  frontier 
has  its  army  corps,  and  meanwhile  the  enemy  are  suffered 
to  pierce  into  our  territory.  Take  Longwy;  I  cannot 
for  the  life  of  me  see  why  we  should  keep  troops  in  that 
rat-trap.  Do  you  forget  Sedan?  " 

"Hardly." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  we  shall  repeat  it. " 

"Tell  me,"  Mesnil  interposed,  dropping  his  voice  to 
a  mysterious  whisper,  "am  I  to  have  a  free  hand  in  this 
business?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"Then  his  Majesty's  strictures  do  not  apply.  For  I 
intend,  if  all  goes  well,  to  violate  the  neutrality  of  Lux- 
embourg. " 

Napoleon  stared. 

"It  is  quite  simple,"  Mesnil  urged  with  extreme 
cheerfulness.  "That  Nassau  fellow,  Adolf,  or  whatever 
he  calls  himself,  won't  make  much  fuss  about  it.  He 
can't  love  his  Imperial  cousin — not  if  he  has  any  bowels, 
and  hankers  still  in  memory  after  Bieberich  and  the 
Kochbrunnen.  And  if  he  does  n't  mind,  no  one  else  will. ' ' 

"  Carache  may  object." 

"Oh,  Carache!  "  muttered  Mesnil,  full  of  contempt. 
"  I  trust  I  am  not  to  be  answerable  to  him.  Neither 
your  Majesty  nor  I  want  to  be  bothered  by  these  triflers 
at  such  a  moment.  I  am  forgetting  Clisserole. " 

"  There,"  he  cried,  after  five  minutes'  labourious  writ- 
ing, "  I  think  that  will  meet  the  case.  It  contains  all 
that  your  Majesty  has  recommended,  so  I  need  hardly 
trouble  you.  I  '11  see  to  its  going  myself." 

333 


334  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

The  little  man  had  his  hand  upon  the  door. 

"  Mesnil,  Mesnil,"  cried  the  Emperor  with  an  abrupt- 
ness that  did  not  lack  pathos,  "  are  you  sure  that  you  are 
doing  right?  Suppose  Clisserole  fails  to  catch  the  en- 
emy, they  will  assuredly  get  between  us  and  Paris.  Let  us 
break  camp — now,  at  once,  and  march  to  Commercy — to 
Vitry — anywhere,  anywhere,  so  that  we  may  get  away 
from  this  cursed  inaction." 

"Impossible.  My  plan  alone  is  practicable.  Whether 
it  is  also  right  is  another  matter.  This  time  to-morrow 
we  shall  know — patience,  patience." 

"This  time  to-morrow!"  Napoleon  murmured  bit- 
terly; "  how  shall  I  pass  the  time  till  then?  There  must 
still  be  much  to  do — tell  me,  tell  me,  is  there  no  task 
with  which  I  can  busy  myself?  "  He  flung  all  reserve  to 
the  four  winds,  holding  out  both  hands  to  his  lieutenant 
in  an  attitude  of  piteous  supplication. 

"I  should  recommend  your  Majesty  to  busy  yourself 
with  a  good  supper  and  as  long  a  night's  rest  as  the 
enemy  permits."  With  this  gentle  admonition  given, 
he  stole  away. 

So  this,  then,  was  the  glorious  excitement  of  a  great 
campaign!  At  last  he  was  tasting  the  fierce  joys  his 
soul  had  dreamt  of  in  bygone  days,  when  the  sound  of 
music  or  the  sight  of  some  beauteous  face  had  stirred 
his  emotions  to  their  depth. 

But  where  were  those  sudden  midnight  marches? — 
those  eagle  swoops  upon  his  careless  prey? — those  bril- 
liant strokes  of  generalship,  made  at  the  eleventh  hour, 
and  turning  disaster  into  victory?  These  had  all  been 
details  in  the  vanished  picture.  Alas,  where  were  they? 

The  net  was  tightening,  truly, — but  he  himself  was  in 
it.  And  instead  of  being  suffered  to  cut  the  woven 
meshes  by  some  great  coup  de  theatre  that  should  mak, 
men  talk  significantly  about  the  reputation  of  Alexander- 
he  was  compelled  to  move  cautiously  inside  a  faste 
narrowing  circle,  so  that,  provided  he  got  out  at  all,  he 
might  get  out  in  accordance  with  established  rules.  The 
drudgery  of  it!  How  vividly  it  reminded  him  of  those 
dreary  pleadings  which  used  to  come  his  way  so  seldom 
that  he  could  never  properly  understand  them. 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  335 

And  then,  the  terrible  anxiety,  the  perpetual  brood- 
ing. Fighting  by  deputy  seemed  to  have  deprived  him 
of  all  else.  Save  for  a  few  brief  moments,  the  period 
since  the  declaration  of  war  had  gone  by  in  a  series  of 
horrible  dreams.  Try  as  he  would,  he  could  not  cast  them 
from  him.  One  morning,  early,  a  regiment,  full  of 
valour  and  enthusiasm,  passes  beneath  his  balcony  and 
infects  him  with  a  genuine  touch  of  its  own  brave  spirit. 
Before  another  day  has  broken,  half  its  strength  lies 
dead,  and  he  at  once  slides  back  into  his  former  terror. 

In  a  word,  the  burden  was  too  heavy  for  his  shoul- 
ders. He  carried  it  into  his  bedroom,  but  it  became  no 
lighter.  As  he  lay  full-length  upon  his  bed,  with  face 
turned  upward  to  the  low-pitched  ceiling  and  mind  hope- 
lessly prostrate,  he  found  himself  vaguely  regretting  the 
old  days,  filled  as  they  had  been  with  mean  cares  and 
wants,  yet  rarely  ruffled,  and  then  only  by  nervous  half- 
hours  at  Nisi  Prius. 

Godefroy  made  repeated  noisy  entries.  His  heart 
was  chilled  by  the  sight  of  this  relapse,  but  nothing  he 
could  do  could  end  it.  The  summer  afternoon  drifted 
off  into  evening,  and  his  Majesty  still  lay  prostrate. 

In  time  the  butler  could  endure  the  ignominy  of  the 
thing  no  longer.  He  laid  a  not  over-gentle  hand  upon 
his  master's  shoulder.  "Come,  it  is  close  upon  seven. 
You  must  eat  something." 

Napoleon  groaned  out  that  he  did  not  care  for  food. 

"I  see,"  Godefroy  rejoined  with  biting  emphasis,  and 
forgetful  of  his  own  weak  hour,  "the  dry  rot  has  got  in. 
We  are  close  to  Bouillon,  that 's  one  comfort." 

The  Emperor  closed  his  weary  eyes,  opening  them 
again  the  very  next  minute,  as  though  on  second  thoughts 
he  preferred  the  ceiling. 

Godefroy  assumed  a  gentler  tone.  "  Be  brave,  my 
Emperor!  What  shall  we  do  if  you  lose  courage?  " 

"Godefroy,  Godefroy,"  faintly  smiling,  "we  ought 
never  to  have  tempted  Providence.  If  only  I  had  been 
allowed  to  remain  content  with  what  I  had." 

"God  bless  my  soul,  you  mustn't  talk  like  that. 
What  would  folks  say  if  they  could  hear  you?  Listen  to 
this!  "  and  he  produced  a  newspaper  cutting  from  his 


336  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

waistcoat  pocket:  "I  got  it  this  morning  from  Paris. 
'The  Emperor,  on  ascending  the  throne,  came  into  a 
sacred  trust,  whereof  war  forms  part.  No  Bonaparte 
may  rule  this  land  shorn  of  its  fairest  provinces.  To 
Napoleon  III  France  without  Alsace-Lorraine  meant 
Chiselhurst;  to  Napoleon  IV  it  would  signify  a  speedy 
return  to  Pimlico  and  the  Royal  Courts  of  Justice,  where 
his  early  life  was  spent — not  too  prosperously,  if  report 
speaks  true.'  There,  that  's  your  real  position;  that  's 
the  way  you  ought  to  look  at  things.  You  will  never 
make  a  great  general  if  you  worry  about  yourself  and 
what  you  stand  to  lose.  You  shall  get  up.  Take  food 
if  you  can;  if  you  can't,  go  and  get  a  breath  of  evening 
air." 

Numbed  as  he  was  by  three  hours'  prostration,  Napo- 
leon yet  could  appreciate  the  wisdom  of  Godefroy's 
counsels.  Nor  had  he  any  desire  to  stay  longer  in  this 
smoke-begrimed  and  crooked  little  room,  with  its  un- 
gainly bed,  all  smelling  feathers,  and  crowned  by  an 
uncovered  canopy-frame  which  scraped  the  ceiling.  So 
he  gathered  his  forlorn  limbs  into  a  sitting  posture,  and 
waited  resigned  while  Godefroy  collected  his  coat  and 
cap  and  sword  from  their  haphazard  resting-places  upon 
the  floor. 

They  went  together  down  the  wooden  staircase:  yes- 
terday, maybe,  it  had  creaked  under  the  feet  of  merry 
children. 

"Is  he  within?"  Napoleon  asked  as  they  passed 
Mesnil's  door. 

"He  is  over  at  Chambley,"  Godefroy  said,  not  rel- 
ishing the  contrast.  When  they  reached  the  hall,  he 
turned  and  implored  his  master  to  be  brisk  and  lively, 
and  to  remember  what  depended  on  his  personal  de- 
meanour. 

The  evening  air  fanned  Napoleon's  brow  and  helped 
to  wake  him  from  his  lethargy.  He  stood  a  while  with 
face  turned  westward,  gazing  upon  the  belt  of  reddening 
wood  that  edged  the  plateau  and  sloped  away  to  Jaulny. 
Beneath  it  he  could  descry  the  Mad  winding  towards 
Moselle,  and  Villecey,  sober  and  peaceful,  content  with 
the  narrow  ledge  of  valley  the  river  left  it.  The  pros- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  337 

pect  soothed  him,  but  it  soon  palled.  He  set  out  at  a 
sharp  pace  eastwards,  in  the  direction  of  Pagny. 

His  way  for  about  two  miles  ran  in  delicious  solitude 
along  the  edge  of  a  forest  glade  and  within  sound  of 
falling  water.  The  slowly  dying  light  among  the  trees 
increased  the  charm;  he  felt  he  had  strayed  into  fairy- 
land. The  town  came  as  an  unwelcome  interruption. 
Had  Mademoiselle  Leduc  been  on  guard  at  her  bowered 
window,  she  would  certainly  have  gathered  some  intelli- 
gence for  Prehlen.  She  was,  however,  more  agreeably 
employed,  so  the  dejected  little  figure  in  general's  uni- 
form passed  beneath  her  window  unobserved. 

He  strolled  slowly  along  the  Vandieres  road.  Why, 
he  could  not  tell ;  perhaps  the  choice  was  a  piece  of  un- 
conscious imitation — Mesnil  had  visited  Chambley  at 
one  end  of  the  lines;  he  would  visit  Vandieres  at  the 
other.  Whatever  his  reason,  it  did  not  seem  strong 
enough  to  carry  him  along  the  mile  or  so  of  darkening 
road  that  divided  him  from  his  destination.  He  began 
to  wish  himself  back  at  La  Grange-en-Haye  on  his  tomb- 
like  bed.  His  present  mood  was  one  that  preferred 
short-cuts  to  contradiction.  Accordingly,  utterly  care- 
less of  the  woods  and  rivulets  in  his  way,  he  turned  off 
the  main  road  and  started  to  mount  a  likely  upland 
path. 

It  was  a  steep  pull.  The  infirmity  of  purpose  that 
had  dogged  him  hitherto  dogged  him  still;  he  speedily 
grew  dubious  as  to  the  value  of  this  lane  of  his,  which 
was  already  winding  suspiciously  southward.  He  vowed 
that  every  step  should  be  his  last,  but  he  still  pushed  on. 
And  his  patience  was  rewarded  after  a  mile  of  incessant 
climbing,  when  he  lit  upon  a  broader  road,  which  led  in 
a  more  favourable  direction. 

It  crossed  the  ridge  a  few  yards  to  the  right  of  its 
highest  point.  Before  following  it,  Napoleon  turned  on 
the  close-cropped  grass  and  breasted  the  incline:  per- 
haps it,  too,  trended  southward. 

The  light  still  favoured.  No  point  among  these  spurs 
of  the  Argonne  affords  a  very  extensive  view,  but  the 
Emperor  could  see  far  enough  eastward  to  make  him 
forget  to  sweep  his  glasses  over  the  tract  behind  him, 


338  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

which  held  La  Grange-en-Haye.  For,  over  there,  be- 
yond the  broad  river  that  lay  glistening  at  his  feet,  he 
could  descry  the  half-dozen  dull  white  stones  which 
marked  where  the  deserted,  transpontine  fragment  of 
his  empire  sank  away  into  Lorraine.  He  scanned  the 
frontier  from  the  point  it  touches  the  Moselle,  opposite 
Pagny,  to  its  wooded  heights  above  Villonville.  And 
there  came  into  his  much-haunted  brain  the  thought 
how  ominous  it  looked  —  that  sweep  of  silent  hills, 
crowned,  here  and  there,  with  dense  lines  of  forest 
whose  foremost  trees  stood  with  their  leaves  absolutely 
still,  unmoved  by  the  faint  breeze  which  fluttered  the 
ends  of  his  unbuttoned  overcoat,  lifting  the  wispy  hair 
from  his  sallow  temples. 

Not  a  soul  stirred  along  the  confines  of  that  sombre 
realm.  No  turf-clad  fortress  disclosed  the  hideous  out- 
line of  its  cannon.  The  sole  sign  of  life,  perhaps,  the 
flickering  reed  of  transparent  smoke  ascending  from 
some  cottage  chimney  to  lose  itself  in  the  darkening 
crimson  of  the  sky.  How  full  of  menace  that  summer 
stillness  looked!  How  pregnant  with  fearful  vengeance 
and  destruction !  So  a  fresh  wave  of  fear  found  its  way 
into  the  heart  of  this  little  figure  on  the  hilltop.  He 
thought  shudderingly  upon  the  terrible  foe  who  was 
hurrying  forward  to  take  up  the  gauntlet  he  had  flung. 
"To  take  up!"  Why,  it  had  been  taken  up  already; 
and  the  great  God  alone  could  say  what  horrors  were 
enacting  at  this  moment  outside  Toul. 

Darkness  settled  down  over  the  hills  and  left  only 
shadows.  The  wind  grew  colder.  Napoleon  commenced 
to  shiver.  He  drew  his  great-coat  closer  round  him, 
and  hurried  to  resume  his  homeward  way. 

"You  are  late  on  your  rounds  to-night,"  said  a  voice 
behind  him. 

He  wheeled  about  sharply.  A  young  soldier — fair, 
and  Teutonic-looking,  and  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a 
captain  of  artillery — advanced  towards  him  out  of  the 
gloom  of  a  clump  of  trees.  His  hand  was  lifted  to  his 
cap,  but  he  bore  himself  with  so  much  easy  confidence 
that  it  was  clear  that  some  degree  of  familiarity  existed 
between  himself  and  the  general  for  whom  he  mistook 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  339 

Napoleon.  His  smiling  countenance  straightened  di- 
rectly he  caught  sight  of  Napoleon's  face. 

He  stopped,  and  saluted  again. 

"I  am  sure  I  beg  your  pardon,  General,"  he  mut- 
tered in  a  deprecatory  tone,  "I  took  you  for  Brigadier 
Marchmont. " 

"Captain,  I  wish  I  were,"  was  the  gracious  answer. 
Napoleon  liked  the  modest  appearance  of  this  young 
officer,  with  his  well-knit  frame  and  open  face.  He  was 
indeed  a  refreshing  change  after  the  wine-stained  Chan- 
garnier  and  those  dapper  little  aides-de-camp  who  flitted 
to  and  fro  with  Mesnil  s  messages,  and  spent  their  leis- 
ure waxing  their  moustaches. 

"  I  wish  I  were.  The  Brigadier  is  a  brave  and  capa- 
ble officer.  You  are  doubtless — no  doubt  you  are  under 
his  command?  "  What  would  he  not  have  given  at  that 
moment  for  one  touch  of  Mesnil's  omniscience? 

"I  am  his  nephew,"  the  Captain  murmured,  "the 
son  of  his  eldest  sister." 

"Aha,"  laughed  his  Majesty,  "that 's  it,  is  it.  Well, 
Captain — Captain — ' ' 

"Miiller." 

"Well,  Captain  Miiller,  may  you  turn  out  as  good  a 
man  as  the  Brigadier."  Then  he  remembered  the  weak- 
mouthed  man  with  watery  eyes  and  unruly  eyeglass,  and 
wished  he  had  n't  spoken. 

"Thank  you,  General,"  laughed  Miiller.  "That  is 
my  battery  behind  the  trees  yonder.  You  are  probably 
from  headquarters?  " 

"Yes." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Mesnil?"  the  young  officer 
proceeded  naively  to  inquire.  "  For  my  part  I  think  he 
is  inclined  to  look  southward  too  much.  He  must  watch 
not  southward  only,  but  north  and  east,  yes,  and  west- 
ward. Be  sure  of  this,  General:  the  key  of  the  whole 
position  in  their  eyes  is,  Napoleon,  alive  or  dead." 

The  picture  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  The  Emperor 
shuddered  and  looked  furtively  across  the  shrouded 
valley. 

"What  is  that?  "  he  asked,  pointing  straight  in  front 
of  him." 


340  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  Miiller  levelled  his  glasses.  "  You  mean  the  light 
in  front  of  Vittonville?  " 

"Yes — look,  it  is  moving!     Now  it  has  gone." 

"This  same  thing  has  happened  twice  before," 
Miiller  answered.  "Last  night,  and  three  nights  ago. 
I  should  say  it  meant  an  attack.  Ah,  there  comes  my 
uncle." 

They  could  hear  heavy  footsteps  trudging  along  the 
roadway  beneath  them.  Presently  a  dark  figure  came 
into  view. 

"A  peasant,"  added  the  Captain  in  disgust.  "  Shall 
I  challenge  him,  General?  " 

"  No  need — he  has  satisfied  the  sentries.  It  is  quite 
certain  that  the  Brigadier  will  come  this  way?  " 

"  He  has  never  missed  yet.  That  fellow  means  to 
speak  with  us." 

The  peasant  had  stopped.  He  was  of  a  goodly  size, 
and  Miiller's  companion  did  not  at  all  like  the  look  of 
him.  "  The  peasants  about  here  are  treacherous  I  have 
heard,"  said  he. 

"Hi,  there,"  shouted  the  stranger  at  that  moment, 
"  am  I  right  for  La  Grange-en-Haye?  " 

"What  can  he  want  there?  "  muttered  Miiller. 

"Cannot  you  answer  a  polite  question?"  vociferated 
the  peasant  in  the  thick  patois  of  Lorraine.  "Why  do 
you  stand  there  like  a  couple  of  scarecrows?  " 

"  Speak  to  him." 

"Have  you  business  with  the  Emperor? "  cries  the 
Captain. 

"Yes,  I  have." 

"Ask  him  what  it  is." 

"What  is  it?" 

"That's  for  him  and  me  to  talk  about  when  we 
meet,"  the  peasant  answered. 

He  showed  signs  of  moving  on.  "Wait,"  cried 
Napoleon,  "we  will  join  you  down  there."  The  next 
minute  they  were  face  to  face  with — one  had  almost 
said  under  the  shadow  of — this  Lorrainer  of  herculean 
proportions. 

"Now,"  said  the  Emperor,  "what  do  you  want?" 

"I  want  his  Majesty,  and  no  one  else." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  341 

"Be  careful  how  you  behave,  my  friend,"  interposed 
Miiller.  "  Monsieur  is  of  very  high  rank." 

"  That  is  nothing  to  me.  I  want  his  Majesty.  I  've 
got  to  speak  with  him,  and  with  no  one  else." 

"And  you  shall  speak  with  him,"  said  Napoleon. 
"  I,  also,  am  bound  for  the  farm.  Do  you  care  to  accom- 
pany me?  " 

The  old  fellow  grumbled  out  an  ungracious  yes. 
Napoleon  turned  gaily  to  his  companion. 

"  Good-night,  Captain.  The  Emperor  shall  hear  of 
you  and  your  views,  never  fear.  Who  knows,  you  may 
yet  end  your  days  as  a  Marshal  of  France." 

"Perhaps  the  young  gentleman  has  horses  to  lend 
us?" 

"Is  your  matter  so  urgent  as  all  that?"  asked  Na- 
poleon. "  It  cannot  be  over  three  miles." 

"Besides,"  Miiller  added,  "horses  would  not  help 
you,  as  you  know  well  enough." 

"  I  know!  "  cried  the  peasant,  staring  with  wide  eyes 
at  the  last  speaker,  "why,  man,  I  have  never  been  in 
France  before.  I  am  from  Mardigny,  in  Lorraine." 

Both  officers  were  visibly  startled.  "I  made  sure 
this  was  some  yokel  from  the  neighbourhood,"  muttered 
the  younger  man. 

"So  you  are  from  Lorraine? "  commenced  the  elder. 
But  the  peasant  would  tolerate  no  more  conversation. 
"Come,  sir,"  said  he  roughly,  "if  you  mean  to  lead  me 
to  his  Majesty,  please  set  out  at  once.  Otherwise  I 
must  find  my  way  as  best  I  can  alone.  I  've  no  time  to 
lose.  When  I  left  home,  five  hours  back,  half  a  dozen 
Prussian  swine  were  ransacking  my  place  for  beer.  If  I 
do  not  get  back  quickly,  they  '11  be  walking  off  with  my 
cows." 

"Then  the  Prussians  are  in  Mardigny,"  Miiller  cried. 

"  In  Mardigny!  "  with  a  fine  contempt.  "  Bless  your 
silly  soul,  that 's  only  the  sick.  Most  of  the  regiment 
has  been  in  Vittonville  since  ten  this  morning." 

"  Is  that  your  message? — Miiller,  a  horse! — here,  you 
Lorrainer,  you  need  not  accompany  me.  I  will  carry 
your  news." 

"Oh  no,  you  won't.     You  haven't  got  it  yet;  and 


342  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

you  're  not  likely  to.  I  have  had  all  the  trouble  of  com- 
ing so  far;  and  now  I'm  here,  I  mean  to  see  his 
Majesty." 

Hark,  what  was  that?  No  need  to  ask  a  second 
time;  for  there  it  came  again!  the  roar  of  cannon  well- 
nigh  in  their  ears.  The  whole  valley  sprang  for  an 
instant  into  a  lurid  glare,  then  sank  back  into  darkness. 
Their  own  hills,  beneath  them  and  on  either  side,  took 
up  the  tale.  Shell  went  screaming  forth  from  grassy 
nooks  which  just  now  stood  silent  and  deserted,  and 
which,  only  half  an  hour  ago,  had  shone  forth  in  dying 
purple — havens  of  sweet  repose.  From  Vandie"res  came 
the  sharp  crackle  of  mitrailleuse,  and  with  it  a  pall  of 
smoke,  darkening  the  night. 

"  So  this  is  it,"  muttered  Napoleon.  "Well,  make 
your  mind  easy.  The  Emperor  already  knows  of  this 
attack,  while  Mesnil  will  have  had  word  from  Vandie"res 
full  three  minutes  ago." 

"  They  do  n't  and  can't  know  what  I  have  got  to  tell 
them.  You  may  be  a  general,  but  you  are  not  doing 
your  master  much  good  by  keeping  me  from  him.  And 
you  sha'n't  any  longer.  I 'm  off. " 

There  came  a  fresh  burst  of  thunder  from  below. 
Voices  mingled  with  the  roar  of  artillery  and  the  clatter 
of  approaching  horsemen. 

"Quick,  quick,  you  imbecile;  say  what  you  have  to 
say.  I  am  the  Emperor." 

"  I  thought  as  much.  My  wife  has  a  bust  of  you  at 
home,"  and  he  contemplated  his  Majesty  with  gentle 
satisfaction. 

The  small  cortege  which  they  had  heard  far  off  swept 
into  view.  "  It  is  General  Marchmont,"  muttered  Miil- 
ler,  as  the  foremost  rider  drew  rein  abreast  of  them  and 
flung  his  hand  high  above  his  head  as  a  signal  to  his 
companions. 

"General  Marchmont,"  said  Napoleon,  stepp;ng  for- 
ward almost  to  touch  that  officer's  bridle,  "  I  am  glad  of 
this  opportunity." 

Marchmont  peered  down  at  him :   ' '  My  word,  the  Em- 
ror!     The  gam< 
across  the  valley. 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  343 

"  Truly.  "  Our  hero  could  already  scent  the  faint 
odour  of  gunpowder,  and  he  did  not  like  it  at  all. 

"We  expected  this,"  resumed  the  Brigadier. 

"  Surely  they  have  not  crossed  the  Ca — " 

"Pardon,  one  moment, "  interrupted  the  other,  his 
eyes  fixed  sternly  on  his  nephew.  ' '  To  your  battery,  sir. 
What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here?  " 

' f  You  do  n't  take  this  for  the  commencement  of  a  real 
attack?  "  Napoleon  asked. 

The  General  glanced  down  at  the  other's  eager  face. 
"Real  attack,"  muttered  he;  "I  am  sure  I  hope  so. 
I  certainly  cannot  tell." 

"I  can,  though,"  boomed  in  the  deep  voice  of  the 
Lorrainer.  It  might  have  been  a  signal  for  the  storm  to 
begin  again.  The  mitrailleuse  indeed  had  never  quite 
been  silent;  they  spit  forth  now  with  a  redoubled  vigour. 
Marchmont  pricked  his  ears.  He  felt  convinced  that  the 
greatest  noise  came  from  the  nearer  side.  Both  he  and 
Napoleon  had  already  turned  with  looks  of  eager  inquiry 
to  the  last  speaker, — "out  with  it,  then,"  he  exclaimed 
brusquely";  neither  his  Majesty  nor  I  have  time  to 
waste." 

"  You 're  not  the  only  people  with  that  complaint. 
If  you  had  n't  had  so  much  to  say  among  yourselves, 
you  might  have  had  my  story  twenty  minutes  ago." 

"My  name  is  Caspar  Schmidt,"  he  went  on  after  a 
short  pause,  and  relapsing  into  sing-song  narrative,  "  I 
am  a  Lorrainer  from  Mardigny.  My  old  woman  says,  if 
only  you  French  can  win  back  the  provinces  we  shall 
have  lighter  taxes  and  better  weather  for  the  pigs.  And 
I, — I  have  no  objection  to  doing  you  a  good  turn." 

"You  are  a  noble  fellow,"  said  Napoleon. 

Caspar  did  not  heed  this  tribute.  He  shut  his  eyes 
tightly,  and,  with  his  head  thrown  well  back,  continued 
his  narrative. 

"  Five  days  ago  the  first  gang  of  Prussians  entered 
Mardigny.  My  son  John — he  's  been  in  Germany,  you 
know — declares  that  they  were  Wiirtemberg  infantry; 
but  I  think  they  must  have  been  Prussians,  they  looked 
so  damnably  ugly.  There  were  about  five  hundred  of 
them.  They  halted  in  the  square  for  about  two  hours, 


344  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

ate  their  dinner,  then  marched  on  toward  Vittonville  and 
Champey.  From  that  time  forward  up  to  mid-day 
to-day  our  street  has  never  been  empty.  The  Prussians 
seemed  to  pour  through,  and  my  son  John — he  's  been 
in  Germany,  you  know — says  that  at  least  eight  thou- 
sand men  must  have  got  through  from  first  to  last." 

"  But  my  wife,  she  thinks  different.  She  came  to  me 
yesterday  afternoon  in  our  back  kitchen  and  she  said  to 
me:  'Caspar,'  she  said,  winking  and  nodding,  'how 
many  men  should  you  think  have  gone  through  the  vil- 
lage since  last  Sunday?' — 'My  dear,'  said  I,  'John  has 
been  in  Germany,  and  he  says  that  quite  four  regiments 
must  have  passed  through.' — 'John  may  have  been  in 
Jericho,'  she  answered, — she  doesn't  think  much  of 
John,  my  wife  do  n't, — '  I  '11  wager  my  life  that  not  more 
than  a  thousand  men  have  gone  through  this  village  since 
the  commencement  of  the  war.  I  've  seen  the  same 
faces  march  in  at  one  end  and  out  at  the  other  over  and 
over  again  for  the  last  five  days.'  ' 

' '  Sire,  they  are  fighting  hand-to-hand  below, ' '  March- 
mont  interrupted,  under  his  breath.  "I  must  not  stay 
here  any  longer. "  He  shook  out  his  reins;  his  following 
did  likewise. 

"At  least,  my  dear  General,  leave  me  a  horse." 

"Lieutenant  Severin,"  jerked  out  Marchmont,  "dis- 
mount for  his  Majesty  and  attach  yourself  to  Captain 
Miiller's  battery.  Dubost,  do  you  accompany  the  Em- 
peror." 

"  One  thing  more,"  cried  Napoleon,  with  a  laugh  that 
was  intended  for  an  apology.  Marchmont  reined  up 
again  in  obedience  to  this  summons,  but  some  of  the 
black  clouds  overhanging  the  valley  seemed  to  have 
wreathed  themselves  about  his  brow. 

"Mesnil  shall  have  ample  reinforcements  ready  for 
you." 

"We  shall  not  need  them.  Good-night,  your  Ma- 
jesty." 

"Good-night,  General." 

All  sound  of  Marchmont  and  his  staff  died  speedily 
away. 

Caspar  resumed:  "As  I  was  saying,  my  old  woman 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  345 

put  thoughts  into  my  head  which  would  not  go.  Three 
Prussian  malingerers  were  billetted  on  us.  At  first  they 
wanted  to  sit  in  the  kitchen,  but  my  old  woman  got  John 
to  tell  them — he  's  been  in  Germany,  you  know — that 
they  were  too  good  for  peasant  folk  like  us.  So  they  sat 
in  the  front  parlour  and  jabbered  away  at  the  top  of  their 
voices.  You  see,  they  didn't  know  that  the  partition 
was  only  thin  wood  or  that  John  had  been  in  Germany; 
but  we  did  n't  forget,  you  may  be  sure  of  that.  They 
talked  a  deal  about  their  ailments,  and  last  night  one  of 
them  said,  'I  shouldn't  stay  behind  like  this,  even  if  my 
feet  were  twice  as  bad,  only  I  know  that  this  is  not  to  be 
a  real  attack.  We  shall  have  to  go  back  by  Metz,  to 
Conflans,  so  we  lose  nothing  by  resting. '  For  my  part, 
I  do  n't  believe  there  is  a  single  German  between  Metz 
and  Vittonville.  All  this  noise  and  shouting,"  waving 
his  hand  toward  the  valley,  "is  merely  to  turn  your 
attention  from  the  north.  The  Emperor  and  Rumpen- 
heim  are  at  Conflans  by  now.  That 's  all  I  have  got  to 
say." 

"And  quite  enough  too.  Captain  Dubost,  hurry  after 
Marchmont  and  tell  him  what  our  friend  has  just  told 
me.  He  and  Favoust  must  be  ready  to  evacuate  Van- 
dieres  and  inarch  northwards  at  a  word  from  me.  Here, 
give  me  the  bridle — thanks,  Caspar" — the  peasant  had 
helped  him  into  the  saddle — "be  off  with  you,  Dubost. 
Good-night." 

He  turned  to  the  peasant. 

"  Will  you  follow  me  up  to  the  farm?  Or  perhaps  you 
prefer  to  stay  with  Captain  Miiller  on  the  summit  yon- 
der? " 

"Neither.  I  shall  go  back  home. "  Caspar  turned  off 
the  roadway,  down  the  grassy  slopes  shelving  to  the  river. 

"  Good-night,  then,  Caspar  Schmidt  of  Mardigny.  If 
I  conquer,  we  shall  meet  again." 

"Good-night,"  growled  Caspar.  "Make  the  taxes 
lighter;  that 's  all  we  want  over  at  Mardigny." 

"It  shall  be  altogether  exempt."  Laughing  gaily, 
Napoleon  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  sprang  forward  on 
his  homeward  road. 

With  weighty  work  like  this  to  his  hand,  and  the  dying 


346  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

roar  of  battle  in  his  ears,  he  could  not  go  fast  enough. 
The  main  road  became  a  cart-track.  The  cart-track 
dwindled  away  into  pathless  downs  and  reappeared  fit- 
fully. Winding  streamlets  interposed  their  double,  triple 
barriers  of  sluggish  water.  He  conquered  every  obstacle. 
His  only  thought,  the  Prussians  close  to  Conflans;  and, 
without  prompt  action,  himself  cut  off  from  Verdun  and 
driven  into  Toul. 

The  great  occasion  was  come  at  last.  Thank  God, 
his  soul  and  brain  were  rising  to  it.  He  knew — he  knew 
that  he  had  always  had  it  in  him. 


Chapter  X 


The  Emperor,  still  red-hot,  breasted  the  last  incline 
that  cut  him  off  from  victory.  La  Grange-en-Haye  lay 
shrouded  in  darkness.  A  feeble  light  flickered  at  a  sin- 
gle window.  Napoleon  recognized  it  as  his  own.  A 
strange  silence  brooded  over  the  narrow  plateau.  Not  a 
soul  stirred.  The  gay  young  aides-de-camp,  the  officers 
of  the  staff,  the  mounted  messengers  who  had  pressed 
about  and  around  the  house  three  hours  back,  all  were 
gone.  The  Imperial  guard  had  struck  their  tents  and 
likewise  departed.  A  solitary  dismounted  cuirassier  stood 
motionless  before  the  porch,  and  the  candle  from  our 
hero's  bedroom  flickered  its  reflection  on  his  sword. 

But  the  gloom  outside  was  nothing  to  the  dreariness 
within.  A  first  step  across  the  threshold  dissipated  Na- 
poleon's ardour.  A  chill  went  to  his  heart,  and  weighed 
it  down  like  lead. 

The  hall  staggered  along  in  semi-obscurity  under  the 
rays  of  a  petroleum-lamp.  The  doors  round  it  stood 
wide  open,  and  each  one  let  out  darkness.  An  oaken 
table,  the  sole  piece  of  furniture  the  passage  boasted,  lay 
prostrate.  The  pegs  and  hat-racks  had  been  swept  of 
their  contents.  Envelopes,  addressed  to  himself  and 
minus  theirs,  lay  scattered  about  the  floor. 

What  did  it  mean? 

"  Godefroy !  "  he  cried. 

The  gallery  above  his  head  commenced  creaking 
under  the  familiar  step.  His  own  bedroom  door  drew 
open.  The  valet  emerged  onto  the  landing  and  peered 
over  the  balustrade.  He  held  a  candle,  the  candle 
which  had  lit  Napoleon  from  his  window;  it  cast  a  lurid 
halo  round  the  old  man's  head. 

"  Godefroy,"  Majesty  repeated  pathetically,  straining 

347 


348  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

up  at  him, — "Godefroy,  it 's  not  yet  ten  o'clock!  What 
does  this  mean?  " 

"Sire,  ascend.     You  will  find  it  cosier  up  here." 

But  the  other  would  not  mount  a  single  stair  without 
further  and  better  particulars.  So  his  servant  craned 
over  the  banister  and  told  him  all  he  knew. 

How  Mesnil  had  come  racing  in  from  Chambley  ten 
minutes  after  Napoleon  had  started  on  his  evening  stroll; 
how,  thereupon,  messengers  had  torn  off  in  all  directions; 
how  the  telegraph-hut  had  been  crowded  nearly  out  of 
existence;  and  how  the  shaky  old  farm  had  reeled  under 
hurrying  feet.  The  Imperial  guard  had  taken  the  road 
first.  The  General,  surrounded  by  the  headquarters 
staff,  had  brought  up  the  rear.  He  did  not  know  their 
destination,  save  that  it  lay  somewhere  in  the  direction 
of  Etain.  With  the  exception  of  a  troop  of  horse  under 
Major  Garin,  and  himself  and  Lieutenant  Mascaut,  the 
old  fellow  understood  that  there  was  not  a  single  fighting 
man  left  in  the  whole  camp.  The  Chief  of  the  Staff,  he 
wound  up,  had  left  a  note. 

"  Fling  it  down,"  exclaimed  Bonaparte  with  biblical 
brevity. 

Godefroy  disappeared  a  second,  then  lumbered  down 
the  staircase  bearing  Mesnil's  missive. 

' '  Honoured  Master, ' '  the  General  wrote,  ' '  your  health 
causes  me  grave  anxiety.  Your  pallor,  your  want  of 
appetite  ever  since  I  have  been  in  your  company,  that 
excessive  lassitude  of  which  M.  Godefroy  complains,  all 
point  one  way.  De  Morin  warned  me  before  we  started. 
Sire,  I  know  of  your  disease.  Your  illustrious  father 
would  probably  have  perished  of  angina  pectoris,  had 
heaven  not  preferred  the  Dauphine  Gate.  Without  a 
doubt  the  malady  has  marked  you  for  its  own.  Courage, 
O  my  King!  I  hear  that  you  spent  the  afternoon  upon 
your  bed;  that  you  have  now  gone  out  for  a  little  prome- 
nade. You  are  wise,  dear  sovereign.  Pursue  this  regi- 
men, and  all  will  yet  be  well.  Need  I  tell  you  how  much 
hangs  upon  your  frail  body?  Pardon  the  pitying  epithet. 
You  are  not  alone  among  great  captains  in  your  physical 
infirmities.  Instance  Dutch  William,  not  to  mention 
Francois-Henri  de  Montmorency,  due  de  Luxembourg. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  349 

Eat  well,  cherished  leader;  drink  plenty  of  nourishing 
beverages,  port,  brandy,  and  the  like  (Godefroy  com- 
plains that  you  imbibe  too  much  tea),  and  above  all  get 
your  fill  of  sleep.  Procure  a  good  night's  rest  at  La 
Grange.  Major  Gorin  remains  to  bring  you  on  betimes, 
to-morrow.  Marchmont,  who  preserves  our  retreat  to 
Frouard  and  the  railways,  will  be  close  at  hand  to  guard 
your  slumbers.  Au  revoir,  Majesty.  (Signed)  Mesnil, 
Chief  of  the  Staff." 

"  P.S. — The  wily  Rumpenheim  is  well  on  his  way  to 
Verdun.  I  am  off  to  try  conclusions  with  him;  and  shall 
hope  to  catch  him  not  far  from  Conflans.  Plenty  of 
time  to  join  us  in  the  forenoon,  dear  lord.  Come  with 
rosy  cheeks,  and  without  that  ashen  look  of  death  in  your 
face  and  weary  eyes.  Such  a  coming  will  equal  two 
brigades.  Second  P.  S. — Clisserole  has  caught  the  enemy 
this  side  of  Toul.  With  what  result  I  know  not.  M." 

The  Emperor  crumpled  the  note  between  twitching 
fingers. 

"  Godefroy,  I  feel  very  faint,"  said  he. 

"The  General  said  you  might,"  murmured  the  ser- 
vant. 

"  Godefroy,  look  at  me. "  Godefroy  looked.  "  Do  I 
appear  very  pale,  Godefroy?  " 

"You  do  n't  show  over-grand,"  consented  the  other. 

"Waxen,  would  you  say,  Godefroy?" 

The  old  fellow  nearly  singed  the  Imperial  nose. 

"H'mn,  a  bit  suety  perhaps." 

"  Godefroy," — and  the  young  man's  voice  grew  even 
fainter, — "would  it  be  correct  to  say  that  there  was  an 
ashen  look  of  death  in  my  weary  eyes?  " 

"  Sire,  I  think  you  had  better  go  to  bed." 

"  I  mean  to  go  to  bed,  Godefroy.  But  first,  Gode- 
froy, tell  me,  do  I  look  like  a  man  who  might  expire  any 
minute  of  heart  disease?  " 

"  The  little  chap  has  been  laying  it  on  rather  thick," 
muttered  the  servant  under  his  breath. 

"Answer  me,"  insisted  his  master. 

"You  do  not  look  well."  And  the  butler  could  not 
be  prevailed  upon  to  commit  himself  any  deeper. 

So  the  Emperor   went  very  gingerly   to  bed.      And 


350  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Godefroy  brought  him  a  steaming  glass  of  brandy  and 
water.  Dr.  Mesnil  had  thoughtfully  ordered  it  before 
his  departure.  And  the  one  flaring  light  was  snuffed; 
and  our  hero  turned  on  his  side  to  escape  the  dim  out- 
lines of  the  frowsy  canopy,  and  prepared  himself  for  a 
sleepless  night  that  should  hover  on  the  brink  of  the 
grave. 

His  pulse  was  extremely  feeble.  He  could  hear  his 
heart  against  the  pillow.  Once  he  felt  tempted  to  ring 
for  Godefroy  and  a  trifle  more  hot  brandy ;  but  on  second 
thoughts  he  deemed  it  wiser  not  to  stir.  But  presently 
an  unaccountable  drowsiness  settled  upon  him.  He  sank 
into  a  dreamless  sleep  (which,  later  on,  cannon  could 
not  break)  murmuring:  "  Angina  pectoris — De  Morin 
never  told  me  that — poor  father." 

And,  meanwhile,  Mesnil  and  his  merry  men  were 
marching  through  the  summer  night  towards  Etain. 

When  our  hero  awoke,  the  sun  was  peeping  in  beneath 
his  canopy.  He  thought  of  his  ailment  the  minute  he 
opened  his  eyes.  He  felt  no  better.  His  head  sang. 
His  pulse,  though  a  trifle  harder,  still  went  along  in 
jerks.  The  heart  itself  made  less  noise,  but  that  was 
the  malady.  Sleep  could  not  refresh  him;  the  daylight 
brought  him  no  encouragement.  He  was  in  a  parlous 
state  indeed.  He  looked  at  his  watch.  Five  o'clock. 
He  could  lay  abed  another  hour.  He  would  rise  at  six, 
snatch  a  hearty  breakfast,  and  follow  Mesnil  to  Etain. 
He  knew  quite  well  that  he  would  never  get  there  alive. 

But  the  day  waned  instead  of  brightening.  He 
glanced  at  his  watch  a  second  time.  A  quarter  past  five, 
and  not  a  soul  stirring,  to  judge  by  the  silence  out  of 
doors. 

And  yet  the  day  was  waning,  of  that  there  could  be 
no  shadow  of  doubt.  Presently  he  understood  why. 
He  was  dying.  The  sky,  which  grew  dimmer  as  he 
looked  at  it,  waned  only  for  him.  He  was  dying  in  the 
midst  of  his  legions,  here,  in  this  deserted  farmhouse, 
beneath  the  faded  pall.  Had  ever  earth  beheld  such 
another  tragedy?  He  commenced  to  think  of  the  head- 
line in  to-morrow's  Times.  Tears  welled  to  his  eyes  and 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  351 

rolled  down  the  front  of  his  pyjamas.  He  would  n't  ring. 
Godefroy  should  find  him  dead. 

But  Godefroy  tapped  at  that  moment. 

"Come  in,"  murmured  the  sufferer.  He  noticed  that 
his  servant  looked  kempt  and  fresh,  considering  the  early 
hour. 

"  Do  you  feel  any  better?  "  broke  out  the  domestic, 
cheerily. 

"  Godefroy,  I  am  dying,"  very  faintly.  "The  day  is 
growing  dim." 

"And  what  else  does  your  Majesty  expect  at  this 
hour?  You  are  not  dying.  You  have  had  a  good  long 
sleep.  Come,  sire,  you  must  get  up  and  eat  something." 

"  I  cannot  eat,"  in  the  articles  of  death. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can  if  you  try.  Your  supper  has  been 
ready  this  half-hour." 

"Supper!  "  murmured  the  invalid. 

"Yes,  supper.  Surely  you  do  not  expect  breakfast 
at  six  o'clock  at  night?  Is  your  Majesty  aware  that  you 
have  been  sleeping  nearly  eighteen  hours  on  end?  " 

"I  thought  the  day  was  closing  in,"  remarked  the 
Emperor  in  rather  firmer  tones. 

"You  will  shave?"  asked  Godefroy,  who  was  now 
bustling  about  the  room. 

"Why  did  you  not  wake  me?"  came  the  peevish  answer. 

"The  General  left  orders  that  you  were  not  to  be 
disturbed." 

"It 's  like  his  impertinence.  I  still  feel  exceedingly 
unwell,  but  I  suppose  I  must  push  on  to  Etain.  No,  I 
sha'n't  shave;  I  have  n't  got  the  strength.  Saddle  my 
horse,  and  take  word  to  Major  Gorin.  Good  God,  to 
think  I  have  been  lying  here  nineteen  hours!  The  whole 
army  may  very  possibly  be  paralyzed  for  want  of  me. 
Mesnil  may  have  been  beaten!  " 

"Do  not  fret,"  grinned  Godefroy;  "we  are  not  to  go 
to  Etain  after  all.  The  Chief  hopes  to  be  back  here  to- 
night. Did  you  not  hear  the  firing?  " 

"Heavens,  no!"  shrieked  his  Majesty,  bounding  to 
the  floor  and  flinging  his  angina  pectoris  to  the  winds. 
"You  do  not  mean  to  tell  me  that  General  Mesnil  has 
dared  fight  a  battle  in  my  absence?  " 


352  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Godefroy  grew  stolid  as  death. 

"I  can  tell  you  nothing.  Your  Majesty  will  shave; 
you  have  not  done  so  since  we  left  Paris.  Aha,  that 
sounds  like  the  little  General  " — horses  below — "he  is 
early.  Get  back  into  bed,  sire,  while  I  fetch  your  hot 
water. ' ' 

Napoleon  obeyed. 

The  valet  instantly  reappeared. 

"Brigadier  Marchmont  is  here.  He  must  see  you  at 
once." 

"But  I  am  in  my  pyjamas,"  pleaded  Bonaparte. 

"  He  will  take  no  denial." 

"  Show  him  up,"  came  the  sullen  answer.  And  Bona- 
parte leant  back  among  his  pillows,  and  commenced  to 
think  afresh  about  his  heart. 

The  Brigadier  came  thumping  in,  and  took  his  stand 
at  the  foot  of  the  Imperial  bed.  The  flabby  lines  about 
his  mouth  (so  far  as  the  beard  had  shown  them  in  former 
days)  had  creased  themselves  entirely  out.  All  that 
hesitancy  and  aimlessness  which  had  marked  him  hitherto 
had  gone  their  way.  The  eyeglass  with  them.  Napo- 
leon, who  kept  his  own  eyes  pretty  tight  on  the  canopy, 
ventured  to  cast  a  few  side  glances  in  the  officer's  direc- 
tion. He  noted  the  great  change  in  the  latter's  bearing. 
He  marked  the  metallic  ring  in  the  voice.  How  dif- 
ferent all  this  from  that  moaning  imbecile  he  had  met  in 
Bonvalet's  quarters.  He  regarded  this  new  phase  as  so 
much  affectation.  He  also  considered  it  extremely  ill- 
timed.  Surely  the  fellow  must  know  that  he  was  at  the 
bedside  of  a  man  whose  father  would  have  died  of  an 
acutely  painful  constriction  of  the  chest  "  had  not  heaven 
preferred  the  Dauphine  Gate." 

Majesty  opened  the  interview  by  a  gentle  reference  to 
his  complaint.  He  was  looking  into  the  pall  once  more, 
so  he  did  not  notice  how  Marchmont  chafed.  He  dwelt 
touchingly  on  the  premonitory  symptoms  which  were  on 
him  now  to  warn  him  of  the  return  of  an  ancient  foe. 
He  murmured,  "  The  heart,  Brigadier!  "  giving  a  wag  of 
his  head  that  was  meant  to  mingle  sorrow  and  laughter. 
He  went  on  to  explain  with  growing  faintness  that  his 
father  had  nearly  died  of  angina  pectoris.  He  wound  up 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  353 

that  both  he  and  Mesnil  had  thought  it  better  that  he 
should  take  a  day  off.  And  that  he  was  now  merely  waiting 
for  his  shaving-water  and  his  break —  supper  to  rejoin 
his  army  and  give  the  enemy  battle. 

Marchmont  here  broke  in  that  he  was  sorry  to  hear 
it.  He,  however,  brought  news  which  might  help  to  re- 
store his  Majesty  to  something  like  his  usual  health. 
The  sovereign  felt  better  at  once,  though  he  did  not 
admit  it.  For  one  thing,  Clisserole,  making  good  use  of 
the  strategic  railway,  had  caught  the  enemy  at  Franche- 
ville,  this  side  of  Toul,  late  last  night.  Toul,  he  added 
parenthetically,  was  not  twenty-two  miles  from  Imperial 
headquarters.  Whereat  Napoleon  shuddered.  Well,  the 
General  had  held  the  foe  at  Francheville,  and  had  beaten 
them  in  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  (when  the  day 
was  softly  dawning,  and — and — your  Majesty  was  on 
your  sick-bed),  and  had  driven  them  pell-mell  on  to 
Nancy,  where  Klein  was  dealing  with  them  at  his  leisure. 
Mesnil,  for  his  part,  had  fallen  in  with  Rumpenheim  by 
Parfondrupt-Manheulles,  this  side  of  the  Orne.  Parfon- 
drupt-Manheulles,  he  added  parenthetically,  was  not 
twenty-five  miles  from  Imperial  headquarters.  Whereat 
Napoleon  shuddered.  Well,  the  little  Chief  had  caught 
the  Prussians  towards  three  of  the  morning,  and  no 
doubt  the  contending  armies  were  at  it  now.  Marchmont 
himself  was  on  his  way  with  his  brigade  to  Giraulmont,  in 
obedience  to  an  express  just  come  in. 

The  invalid  naturally  asked  what  about  his  own  Im- 
perial person.  Gorin's  troops,  he  justly  pointed  out, 
was  hardly  a  sufficient  force  to  guard  bedridden  angina 
pectoris. 

It  was  the  first  time  Marchmont  showed  the  least 
symptom  of  his  old  indecisive  manner.  His  kepi  was 
hidden  by  the  bedboard  from  Napoleon's  view.  He 
commenced  fumbling  with  it.  Then  he  remarked  hur- 
riedly that  Mesnil  had  directed  him  to  make  arrange- 
ments. "Your  Majesty  will  be  perfectly  safe  at  La 
Grange.  If  all  goes  well,  Mesnil  hopes  to  be  back  here 
towards  midnight  on  his  way  to  Pont-a-Mousson." 

"  Did  the  General  mention  that  in  his  express?  " 

"Yes,"  and  Marchmont  recommenced  fumbling.  Hap- 


354  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

pily  he  got  away  from  the  note  without  reading  it.  The 
part  about  Napoleon  ran  after  this  fashion  somewhat: 

"Give  a  look  in  at  headquarters  on  your  way.  You 
will  probably  find  Suet  still  abed.  Let  him  know  as  much 
as  you  deem  advisable  about  Francheville  and  Rumpen- 
heim.  Tell  him  that  you  've  got  the  word  for  Giraulmont. 
Leave  Gorin  a  regiment  for  the  protection  of  his  val- 
uable person.  It 's  not  enough,  but  we  '11  chance  him 
for  an  hour  or  so.  Throw  in  a  word  about  heart  disease, 
if  you  have  time.  Inform  him  that  his  nose  looks  bluer 
than  usual." 

The  sufferer  seemed  satisfied,  and  tried  to  get  back  to 
his  complaint.  But  the  Brigadier  cut  him  short,  inform- 
ing him  that  Giraulmont  was  fifteen  miles  away,  and  that 
he  was  an  hour  behind  his  rear  guard.  And  with  that  fare- 
well Marchmont  thumped  out  of  the  room.  Napoleon 
heard  him  jingle  down  the  stairs,  and  mount  his  horse 
and  clatter  away.  Then  Majesty  lay  back  and  waited 
for  the  hot  water. 

So  the  two  first  moves  had  been  in  his  favour.  Really, 
he  began  to  feel  a  trifle  more  robust.  But  he  did  not 
permit  himself  too  great  a  rebound  towards  hopefulness. 
Nor  did  he  think  it  would  be  wise  to  dress  over-quickly. 
In  fact,  he  half  made  up  his  mind  to  use  the  shaving- 
water — when  it  came — with  a  little  more  brandy,  and 
thus  go  three  quarters  of  the  road  to  meet  the  coming 
night.  He  must  husband  his  strength  for  that  Napo- 
leonic dash  into  the  Reich  ordained  by  Mesnil's  skill. 
He  did  not  grudge  his  lieutenants  their  victories.  The 
old  Emperor  had  kept  to  Mayence  in  the  early  days  of 
seventy.  La  Grange  was  his  Mayence:  and  the  old 
Reich's  founder  had  n't  heart  disease.  He  must  tighten 
his  weakly  frame.  If  it  smashed  up  in  the  struggle — 
well,  France  would  gain.  He  pictured  himself  in  his 
death-throes  just  the  wrong  side  of  the  Bradenburg  Gate, 
and  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  he  stifled  two 
more  tears. 

His  thoughts  fled  back  to  Muriel.  If  only  she  could 
see  him  now.  She  was  thinking  of  him,  that  he  knew. 
He  knew  also  that  she  was  romantic.  All  girls  are,  and 
this  one  had  shown  him  the  colour  of  her  soul  the  night 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  355 

of  his  Meaux  dinner-party,  when  she  had  derided  the 
"  permanence  of  aspirations  "  so  satisfying  to  most  of  his 
countrymen. 

He  contrasted  the  visions  which  he  pictured  in  her 
mind  with  the  stern  reality. 

She  saw  him,  he  doubted  not,  mounted  upon  his 
champing  steed,  his  own  mouth  tight  shut  beneath  a 
brow  of  thunder,  directing  the  battle  from  a  foolhardy 
eminence  well  within  range.  She  noted  his  eagle  eye — 
and  he  stretched  out  a  hand  to  take  a  mirror  and  have  a 
look  at  it  himself — as  it  wandered  over  the  combatants 
at  his  feet.  She  even  heard  the  shells  as  they  whistled 
round  him.  And  she  marvelled  at  his  cool  demeanour. 

So  much  for  fancy.  Here  was  the  truth.  He  lay 
stretched  upon  his  couch  of  suffering,  his  massive  brain 
and  his  frail  body  equidistant  between  two  battle-fields, 
and  in  a  sense  he  hovered  over  either.  In  a  sense  his 
master  mind  was  at  this  moment  sending  two  great 
armies  to  victory.  Mesnil  did  well  to  rank  him  with 
Luxembourg. 

What  a  strangely  deceptive  thing  was  glory.  He  had 
made  identically  the  same  mistake  as  his  beloved  in  days 
gone  by.  Why,  this  farmhouse  room  was  more  squalid 
than  Pimlico;  yet  it  held  a  great  captain,  equidistant 
between  two  battles,  and  directing  both,  and  at  the  same 
time  dying  of  angina  pectoris. 

The  rumble  of  approaching  wheels  floated  through 
his  open  window.  Mesnil  had  come  early.  Nor  was  it 
like  the  little  General  to  drive.  His  master  hoped  that 
this  was  not  growing  pride.  He  felt  that  at  all  hazards 
he  must  see  what  sort  of  visage  Claude  Augustus  wore. 
So  he  slipped  again  out  of  bed  and  crept  to  the  window. 

A  barouche  and  pair  came  thundering  down  towards 
the  farm  from  the  ridge  of  the  Villecey  road.  It  was 
enveloped  in  an  escort  of  his  own  Cuirassiers,  and  a  cloud 
of  dust.  Mesnil  should  pay  for  this.  The  Emperor 
cowered  behind  the  curtain  as  the  new  arrival  swept  into 
his  gates.  He  recognized  the  imprudence, — in  pyjamas, 
too, — but  he  must  have  a  look  at  the  victor.  It  would 
regulate  his  future  conduct. 

And  it  was  not  Mesnil  after  all! 


356  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

But,  instead,  a  gentleman  garbed  in  the  glittering  uni- 
form of  Prussian  Cuirassiers,  with  shiny  helmet  and 
familiar  face.  The  stranger  fondled  his  sword  between 
his  knees,  and  looked  straight  in  front  of  him  at  the 
coachman's  back.  Napoleon  guessed  at  once.  His  lieu- 
tenants had  been  beaten;  this  was  his  summons  to 
Wilhelmshohe.  He  cursed  them  both.  He  likewise 
crept  trembling  into  bed. 

Godefroy  did  not  give  him  many  minutes'  respite.  The 
old  fellow  came  plunging  into  the  Imperial  bedroom, 
every  sign  of  astonishment  over  his  ruddy  countenance. 

"  Count  Merode-Neustadt  is  here,  and  desires  to 
speak  with  you." 

"I  thought  I  knew  the  face,"  murmured  Bonaparte. 
He  added  out  loud: 

"  I  won't  see  him.  Tell  him  that  I  am  over  at 
Parfondrupt. " 

"He  says  he  has  heard  the  contrary  from  Brigadier 
Marchmont. " 

Napoleon  groaned. 

"  Tell  him,  then,  that  it  is  very  bad  form  for  a  late 
ambassador  at  Paris  to  come  on  such  an  errand." 

"  But  you  do  n't  know  what  he  has  come  for  yet. " 

"I  can  guess,"  the  Monarch  gloomily  rejoined.  "I 
suppose  I  must  bow  to  superior  force.  Let  him  know 
that  I  will  be  with  him  directly." 

But  Godefroy  merely  shut  the  door  carefully  and 
came  quite  close  to  his  master's  bed,  bending  his  mouth 
almost  to  touch  the  uppermost  ear  of  the  recumbent 
figure. 

"I  thought  the  same  as  you  at  first.  But  Major 
Gorin's  men  would  surely  not  have  brought  him?  And 
one  of  them  whispered  me  the  fragments,  of  a  rumour 
that  Mesnil  has  beaten  Rumpenheim. " 

The  Emperor  pushed  him  to  one  side  and  bounded 
onto  the  floor. 

"I  see  it  all!  "  he  shouted.  "I  see  it  all!  Shaving- 
water,  Godefroy!  and  my  campaign  uniform — the  old 
and  dirty  one!  " 

"  Sire,  be  careful  how  you  deal  with  him." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  357 

"  Never  fear,  honest  friend.  They  have  had  their 
innings;  this  is  my  turn." 

Twenty  minutes  later,  our  hero  walked  sedately  into 
the  dining-room.  Clean-shaven  and  kempt  as  regards 
his  person,  he  wore  his  most  faded  uniform.  Godefroy 
had  swathed  it  in  summer  dust.  The  sovereign's  boots 
were  coated  as  well,  and  he  laid  kepi  and  sword  upon 
the  table  with  an  air  of  extreme  weariness.  Then  he 
held  out  both  hands  to  his  visitor. 

"Welcome,  your  Excellency,"  said  he,  not  abating  a 
jot  of  his  gravity.  "  Your  visit  recalls  happier  times." 

Merode-Neustadt  stood  beside  the  window,  fondling 
his  whiskers.  The  poor  fellow  looked  as  cheerful  and 
ruddy  and  good-humoured  as  ever.  If  Mesnil  had  won 
a  victory  over  at  Parfondrupt,  certainly  the  late  Ambas- 
sador's demeanour  contained  nothing  to  show  it.  And 
when  he  spoke,  he  did  not  even  balance  his  words — the 
first  thing  a  legate  does  who  is  in  difficulties. 

"Sit  down,"  resumed  Napoleon,  himself  dropping 
into  a  rocking-chair  which  brushed  the  only  seat  avail- 
able for  his  guest.  "  Sit  down,  and  have  a  ci —  "  then  he 
remembered  his  role  in  time  to  break  off  before  reaching 
the  cheroot. 

"Your  Majesty  is  extremely  condescending,"  Merode 
replied.  "You  must  pardon  this  little  intrusion  of 
mine.  But  war  excuses  all — sire,  you  know  that  better 
than  any  one." 

"  Yes,  indeed." 

"This  will  be  bad  weather  for  the  harvest,"  the 
Count  began  again.  "We  want  rain.  I  trust  this  ex- 
treme drought  is  merely  partial ;  I  have  a  good  deal  of 
stuff  over  in  Posen,"  and  for  the  fraction  of  a  second 
he  looked  less  genial. 

"Ah,  I  do  n't  farm,"  Napoleon  rejoined.  "Ruina- 
tion, you  know,  to  all  but  the  richest  men." 

"Ruination  in  truth,"  said  his  Excellency,  cheering 
up. 

Then  they  moved  from  the  weather  to  a  discussion  on 
the  relative  merits  of  London  and  Vienna.  Merode  had 
spent  many  years  as  first  secretary  in  the  Austrian  capi- 


358  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

tal ;  but  Napoleon  doubted  whether  there  was  any  city 
to  touch  the  great  metropolis  for  real  enjoyment,  "pro- 
vided, of  course,  one  is  in  the  swim  and  manages  to  see 
the  best  people." 

"  I  have  heard  that  your  English  ladies  are  extremely 
beautiful." 

"  Have  a  cheroot?  "  the  Emperor  hurried  out.  "  How 
rude  of  me  not  to  have  offered  you  one  before." 

"  Thank  you;  I  should  enjoy  one.  I  have  been  in  the 
saddle  a  good  deal  to-day." 

Bonaparte  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"Ahem,"  he  muttered,  "that  reminds  me  my  time  is 
limited.  I  have  to  get  over  to — ah — towards  Chambley 
before  dusk.  I,  too,  have  been  on  horseback  since  day- 
break this  morning,  over  in  the  direction  of  Francheville, 
you  know.  The  country  is  beautiful  about  here." 

"It  cannot  touch  Posen,  in  my  opinion." 

"  Maybe  not." 

"Nor  the  scenery  round  Berlin,"  Merode  added 
eagerly. 

"Ah,  I  do  not  know  Berlin." 

"It  is  a  beautiful  city." 

"  Oh  well,"  the  Emperor  retorted  with  consolation  in 
his  voice,  "  you  and  I,  dear  Count,  must  hope  to  be  back 
in  Paris  before  very  long." 

The  Ambassador  relapsed  into  dreams.  The  same 
happy  smile  played  about  his  mouth  as  heretofore.  His 
thoughts  dwelt  clearly  on  something,  the  memory  of 
which  pleased  him  very  much. 

"Sire,"  he  commenced  at  last,  "we  none  of  us 
think  anything  at  all  of  General  Mesnil." 

"  You  surprise  me." 

"His  methods  are  antiquated  to  a  startling  degree. 
Only  just  before  I  came  away,  Count  Rumpenheim  was 
remarking  how  much  he  reminded  him  of  Turenne. 
And  who  follows  Turenne  nowadays?  He  has  the  first 
two  moves  of  the  game;  but  we  are  bound  to  smash  him 
in  the  end." 

"So  he  has  the  first  two  moves,"  the  Emperor  mur- 
mured under  his  breath;  "I  am  glad  to  hear  that 
much."  Aloud,  he  merely  repeated: 


THE   FOURTH    NAPOLEON  359 

"  You  surprise  me." 

Merode  lost  no  part  of  his  good-humoured  tranquil- 
lity. 

"Yes,  we  shall  catch  him  the  other  side  of  Metz, 
when,  sire,  look  out  for  another  Sedan." 

"So  Rumpenheim  is  retreating?"  Napoleon  burst 
out. 

"We  are  falling  back  to  gather  reinforcements  from 
Coblentz  and  Maintz.  Besides,  our  advance  along  the 
Verdun  road  was  merely  a  feint." 

"  I  understand." 

And  now  the  Ambassador  became  a  trifle  graver. 

"You  must  have  lost  very  heavily  at  Francheville?  " 
he  said. 

"  Nothing  very  terrible,  I  fancy." 

"Our  reports  say  that  the  field  is  saturated  with 
blood  —  French  blood.  You  certainly  have  suffered 
severely  over  yonder,"  and  he  jerked  his  head  in  the 
direction  of  Parfondrupt. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  murmured  his  fellow-nego- 
tiator. 

"  I  do,  though.  Before  I  left  I  saw  your  dead,  moun- 
tains high.  Sire,"  he  burst  out,  with  no  great  change  of 
voice  or  manner,  "  cannot  you  and  I  stop  this  carnage?  " 

Napoleon  stared  at  him. 

"Let  us  show  these  butchers  that  peace  has  its 
victories,  no  less  than  war.  They  despise  diplomatists 
and  emperors  —  some  emperors,  that  is.  Let  us  show 
them  what  we  are  good  for!  " 

"I  daren't,"  faltered  the  Monarch.  "  Carache, 
Mesnil,  Brisson,  the  papers,"  he  poured  forth  in  reck- 
less confusion,  "the  Assembly — Mu — de  Morin,  what 
would  they  all  say?  Really,  I  dare  n't.' 

"Come,  come,  sire,  do  not  excite  yourself.  Be 
tranquil.  You  will  see  at  once  that  you  are  answerable 
to  no  one.  You  can  do  exactly  what  you  please.  And 
you  may  take  it  from  me,  your  subjects  will  welcome 
such  a  gift." 

"What  do  you  offer?"  said  the  Emperor,  still 
trembling. 

"  We  off er  peace;  each  side  to  pay  its  own  costs." 


360  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"After  our  —  my  —  ahem,  the  two  victories,  we  can- 
not possibly  accept  such  terms." 

"Very  well,"  Merode  promptly  rejoined,  "I  will 
add  to  them.  My  master  will  give  you  all  Alsace  south, 
a  straight  line  drawn  between  Belfort  and  Basel." 

Our  hero  thanked  God  for  his  liberal  education. 

"The  offer  is  absurd." 

"We  throw  in  Mulhouse. " 

"I  must  have  the  two  provinces,"  the  Emperor 
rejoined  with  growing  decision. 

"Oh,  come,"  Merode  soothed  him;  "you  have  no 
grounds  on  which  to  base  such  a  demand." 

"  Then  I  must  go  on  until  I  get  grounds." 

"We  will  help  you  in  any  designs  against  England," 
pleaded  his  Excellency. 

"  I  must  have  the  provinces,  or  nothing  at  all." 

The  Ambassador  sighed. 

"  Won't  Egypt  do  instead?  " 

"I  must  have  the  provinces.  I  went  to  war  for  the 
provinces;  and  the  provinces  I  must  have." 

"You  shall  have  all  Alsace  north  of  Markirch  and 
Markolsheim  —  Lower  Alsace  in  fact.  And  my  master 
will  throw  in  the  corner  of  Lorraine  southwest  of 
Moyenvic  and  the  canal." 

"  I  want  the  provinces." 

"That  is  the  provinces  —  except  for  one  or  two  odds 
and  ends." 

"I  want  Metz  and  Mulhouse." 

"  Then  the  butchery  must  go  on,"  exclaimed  Merode, 
rising  from  his  chair. 

"Stop!"  cried  Majesty,    "your  last  offer  is  final?  " 

"The  Count  slid  back.  "Absolutely  final.  My 
master  only  makes  it  out  of  his  deep  love  for  humanity." 

"I  fully  comprehend,"  sympathised  Bonaparte,  only 
too  glad  to  get  off  on  a  side  issue. 

"His  deep  love  for  humanity,"  Merode  repeated. 
"  Philanthropy  is  one  of  the  most  distinguishing  features 
of  his  glorious  and  ever-to-be-emulated,  never-to-be- 
surpassed  character.  Of  course  he  had  the  best  tutors 
procurable,  who  received  instructions  to  pay  special 
attention  to  this  branch  of  science." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  361 

"I  understand  perfectly." 

"  His  tenderness,"  pursued  the  legate  dreamily,  "is 
not  straightened  by  such  arbitrary  lines  as  those  of  race 
and  country.  'Count  von  Merode-Neustadt, '  he  said 
to  me  just  before  I  left,  'I  cannot  bear  to  see  these 
brave  Frenchmen  die.'  That 's  chiefly  the  reason  why 
I  have  come." 

"It  is  very  noble  of  both  of  you." 

"We  throw  in  a  slice  of  the  provinces  simply  to 
sweeten  future  intercourse." 

This  return  to  business  set  the  other  high  contracting 
party  once  more  groaning. 

"Really  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  am  quite 
certain  I  ought  not  to  listen  to  you.  What  will  people 
think  in  Paris,  if  I  return  without  the  provinces?  " 

"In  Berlin,"  Merode  retorted,  "people  don't 
think;  they  are  not  allowed  to." 

"Oh,  yes,  that 's  all  very  fine;  but  we  can't  do  those 
things  with  us.  The  French  are  a  free  people." 

"  Sire,  so  are  my  countrymen." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know — only — only  the  thing  is  different. 
Your  Emperor  is  eloquent,  while  I  am — that  is,  he 
is  allowed  to  make  up  his  own  speeches,  and  Carache 
makes  mine.  Then  he  is  stronger  than  I  am,"  Na- 
poleon winced.  "  He  can  sit  up  half  through  the  night 
writing  newspaper  leaders,  at  least  so  Godefroy  says; 
whereas  if  I  tried  to  do  the  same  thing,  I  should  be  dead 
in  a  month.  Heart  disease,  you  know." 

The  Count  assumed  a  look  of  great  concern. 

"  Indeed!     I  am  deeply  grieved  to  hear  it." 

"  Oh,  it  is  inherited,"  the  warrior  went  on,  attempt- 
ing to  introduce  a  note  of  laughter  into  his  shaking 
voice.  "Most  of  these  things  are.  My  poor  father, 
you  know.  He  would  have  died  of  angina  pectoris, 
only — " 

"Only?" 

"  Only — only — he  died  of  something  else." 

"Ah,"  Merode  sighed,  "lam  sorry." 

"So  you  see  I  have  to  spare  myself.  The  doctor  at 
Harrow  used  to  declare  that  a  sudden  "  Bo!  "  would  be 
enough  to  send  me  into  my  grave." 


362  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

For  a  minute  or  so  the  German  looked  sorely  tempted 
to  have  a  try;  but  he  kept  resolutely  to  his  whiskers, 
saying  presently: 

"This  war  can't  be  good  for  you." 

"It  is  n't, "  Napoleon  assented.  "I  haven't  been 
able  to  sleep  a  wink  all  day  for  the  sound  of  that  infernal 
cannon." 

"You  can  hear  it  even  at  this  distance?"  inquired 
the  guileless  envoy. 

"Certainly  I  can.  We  are  not  more  than  twenty 
miles  from  Parfondrupt. " 

"I  should  have  thought  it  more." 

"Oh,  dear,  no,"  maintained  his  Majesty,  much  hurt; 
"I  have  measured  it  on  one  of  Mesnil's  maps." 

"You  doubtless  know  best.  Sire,  you  have  recalled 
to  my  mind  the  memory  of  that  blood-stained  field.  Be- 
hold, I  shudder!  " 

"The  thought  of  it  frightens  me  as  much  as  it  does 
you.  But,  unhappily,  these  things  are  necessary." 

"You  and  I  can  stop  them." 

Napoleon's  face  was  already  puckered  in  anxious 
folds.  He  now  began  to  sway  his  body  to  and  fro  in  an 
agony  of  doubt.  He  dared  not  accept,  equally  he  dared 
not  refuse,  so  he  swayed  to  and  fro.  Before  long  he 
muttered: 

"  Let  me  hear  exactly  what  you  offer?  " 

"Lower  Alsace,  and  the  piece  of  Lorraine  southwest 
of  Moyenvic  and  the  canal.  Observe,"  Merode  whipt 
out  a  pocket-atlas  from  his  cuirass,  and  drew  his  chair 
up  to  the  table, — "  the  two  pieces  together  form  a  com- 
pact and  convenient  wedge,  should  you  desire  hereafter 
to  avenge  yourself  for  Mesnil's  blunders." 

"What  am  I  to  say?"  murmured  Bonaparte.  "It 
certainly  looks  very  compact."  He  likewise  was  now 
up  to  the  table.  Merode  pushed  the  atlas  under  his 
nose,  and  left  the  matter  to  simmer  for  a  while. 

"Monsieur  Prehlen,"  said  he,  in  a  conversational 
aside,  like  a  tutor  who  permits  his  pupil  a  break  in  the 
midst  of  Latin  prose,  "has  given  great  offence  to  his 
government.  I  have  it  on  the  best  authority  that  he  has 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  363 

already  been  recalled.  Heigho,  how  we  shall  miss  him 
in  Paris.  What  an  amusing  dog  he  was." 

The  bait  took  instantly;  though  Napoleon  saw  the 
hook,  and,  with  it  in  his  mouth,  vowed  mentally  he  would 
not  be  caught. 

"  I  think  you  must  be  wrong. " 

"  No,  the  thing  is  beyond  the  region  of  possible  doubt. 
I  have  it  from  our  Russian  at  Berlin.  Prehlen  exceeded 
his  instructions  in  his  treaty  with  you.  Have  n't  they 
repudiated  some  of  the  terms  yet?  " 

"  No,"  the  Emperor  replied  with  increasing  nervous- 
ness. 

"Ah,  they  will.  Probably  the  Russian  government 
has  written  direct  to  Carache.  He  would  naturally  keep 
bad  news  from  you." 

"  Let  him  dare — " 

"Sire,  no  sudden  bursts  of  rage,  I  beg.  Remember 
your  heart.  Talking  of  Carache,  would  you  summon 
him  from  Paris,  and  agree  to  an  armistice  to  cover  his 
arrival?  " 

"Why?"  His  Majesty  had  now  become  very  fierce 
and  uncompromising:  this  fresh  instance  of  his  Premier's 
officiousness  and  treachery  worked  miracles  in  Merode's 
favour.  Luckily  for  the  latter,  his  fellow-negotiator 
could  always  be  satisfied  with  the  flimsiest  evidence. 

"  My  master  suggested  that  you  might  not  like  to 
assume  any  of  the  responsibility  yourself.  He  and  Ca- 
rache would  put  the  thing  through  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour. " 

"  Be  good  enough  to  inform  your  master  that  I  can 
do  exactly  the  same  in  my  country  as  he  can  in  his,  and 
no  more  and  no  less.  Carache  is  merely  my  servant." 

"Then  accept  this  compact  little  wedge,"  cried  Me- 
rode,  bringing  his  hand  down  with  a  bang  on  the  open 
map. 

"  I  mean  to,"  shouted  the  other. 

"  That 's  a  brave  and  independent  ruler.  My  master 
and  you  must  meet:  you  would  be  very  fond  of  one 
another. " 

"But,"  Napoleon  hesitated,  beginning  once  more  to 


364  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

sway  to  and  fro  in  his  chair,  "couldn't  you  throw  in 
Upper  Alsace  as  well?  " 

"  No,  I  am  afraid  I  could  not,  much  as  I  should  love 
to  oblige  you.  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  will  do,  though." 

"Yes?" 

"  I  will  procure  you  the  hand  of  her  serene  Highness 
the  Princess  Vera  of  Hesse-Cassel." 

"Thanks,  very  much,"  Napoleon  exclaimed  with  a 
sudden  access  of  energy,  "  I  am  already  engaged." 

Merode  pondered  for  a  while.  "  Is  there  no  part  of 
the  British  Empire  which  would  tempt  you?  "  he  asked 
at  last.  "  Canada  or  Cape  Colony,  for  instance?  My 
master  could  manage  the  matter  for  you  with  the  great- 
est ease.  He  has  only  to  send  a  few  telegrams,  and  the 
thing  is  as  good  as  done." 

The  Monarch's  reply  to  this  tempting  offer  rather 
startled  the  envoy.  He  clapped  both  hands  to  his  head 
and  sprang  to  his  feet,  at  the  same  time  shouting: 

"I  accept,  I  accept.      Quick,  pen  and  paper!  " 

"  Is  it  to  be  Cape  Town?" 

"  No,  no — what  you  offer  in  Alsace.  " 

"  Sire,  I  congratulate  you  on  your  sagacity.  We  most 
certainly  should  have  smashed  Mesnil  the  other  side  of 
Metz." 

"Put  the  thing  to  paper  at  once,"  Bonaparte  per- 
sisted, now  fully  ablaze  with  excitement,  "else  I  shall 
assuredly  go  back  upon  my  word.  They  will  make  me. " 

Merode  rummaged  inside  his  cuirass.  "  I  have  the 
preliminaries  here." 

"Quick,  let  me  sign,"  shouted  our  hero,  brandishing 
a  quill,  which,  with  a  small  bottle  of  ink,  the  Ambassador 
had  also  produced  from  his  inexhaustible  bosom.  "  I 
do  not  want  it  read — I  trust  you." 

"One  minute.  I  ought  to  inform  your  Majesty  that 
this  does  not  include  any  part  of  Lorraine  in  our  resti- 
tution." 

"  Only  Lower  Alsace?  " 

"  Only  Lower  Alsace." 

"  That  's  not  fair.  You  offered  me  a  strip  of  Lor- 
raine southwest  of  Moyenvic  and  the  canal,  and  I 
accepted  it.  I  sha'n't  sign." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  365 

"You  must  please  yourself.  After  all,  I  am  doing  this 
mainly  to  oblige  you.  We  Germans  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  a  continuance  of  the  war.  Italy  and  Austria  have 
this  very  morning  given  us  a  renewal  of  the  triple  alli- 
ance. You  will  have  Nice  under  water  before  the  week 
is  out." 

"Lower  Alsace,  then,"  shrieked  the  bewildered  mon- 
arch. "Where  do  I  sign?  —  thanks,  I  see,"  and  he 
scratched  his  signature  with  twitching  hand. 

Then  he  cast  the  quill  to  the  floor.  "  Thank  God 
for  that!  "  he  cried. 

Merode  stooped  down  to  recover  the  little  weapon: 

"  I  have  yet  to  sign.  I  shall  put  the  pen  away  among 
my  most  treasured  possessions." 

Five  hours  later,  and  upon  the  stroke  of  midnight, 
General  Mesnil  burst  into  the  farm.  He  was  smothered 
in  dust  from  head  to  foot;  his  eyes  glittered  with  rage. 
Learning  from  Godefroy  that  the  Emperor  had  long  ago 
retired  to  rest,  the  excited  little  warrior  sprang  like  a 
tiger  up  the  stairs.  Nothing  could  stop  him.  He  gave 
one  hurried  tap  at  Napoleon's  door,  then  pushed  into 
the  room.  It  was  in  darkness.  The  General  could 
descry  only  the  dim  outlines  of  the  bed;  the  canopy  had 
assumed  fearful  proportions,  it  covered  the  whole 
ceiling. 

"Godefroy,"  came  a  peevish  voice  from  the  black 
chasm  of  bedding,  "what  do  you  want?  My  heart  is 
causing  me  fearful  agony.  Can't  you  let  me  die  in 
peace?  " 

"  It  is  not  Godefroy,"  rapped  out  Mesnil. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  the  voice  from  the  abyss,  already  a 
trifle  more  robust,  "  who  is  it,  then?  " 

"It  is  I,  General  Mesnil." 

"I  can't  see  you  now.  You  must  wait  till  the  morn- 
ing." 

"My  message  won't  wait.  I  have  come  to  tell  you 
that  you  have  betrayed  France.  Good  dreams,  my 
master." 


Book  III 

"VOILA!    ENCORE    UNE    DECEPTION" 


Chapter  I 


The  victor  of  Parfondrupt  got  back  to  the  Elysee  as 
quickly  as  he  could,  having  due  regard  to  the  just  claims 
of  the  towns  upon  his  route.  Verdun,  Chalons,  Rheims, 
even  little  Chateau-Thierry,  wanted  a  glimpse  of  their 
conquering  hero.  And  he,  conscious  of  both  battles 
won  simultaneously  from  his  bedroom  window,  felt 
neither  the  desire  nor  the  right  to  balk  such  legitimate 
curiosity.  Nor  did  he  altogether  object  to  this  part  of 
the  business.  He  "progressed"  almost  up  to  Paris 
itself.  He  made  little  speeches  which  did  not  omit — 
one  may  be  sure — to  accord  their  fair  share  of  praise  to 
his  lieutenants — Clisserole  especially,  whom  he  persist- 
ently placed  number  two  on  the  roll  of  honour.  The 
reason  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  the  fact  that, 
one  night  at  Rheims,  Mesnil  complimented  him  to  his 
face  as  the  "  pacificator  of  La  Grange-en-Haye."  It  also 
came  to  his  ears  that  the  little  fellow  went  about  saying 
how  greatly  he  regretted  his  master's  meagre  practice  at 
the  English  bar.  His  words  at  the  farm  he  had  forgot- 
ten. So  he  was  right  glad  to  find  himself  back  once 
more  in  Paris.  Even  a  palace  grows  its  household  gods. 
Napoleon  (he  might  not  have  owned  to  it  himself)  always 
succumbed  to  the  sway  of  familiar  places.  He  liked  to 
have  his  books  and  pictures  around  him,  the  desk  he 
seldom  sat  at,  and  the  sofa  he  used  a  good  deal.  He 
liked  his  usual  mattress.  Not  that  there  was  anything 
weak  in  that:  Leonidas's  self  might  have  dreaded  the 
multiplication  of  nights  under  the  farm-house  canopy. 
Above  all  he  was  able  now  to  enjoy  these  things  in  the 
knowledge  that  they  were  amply  deserved.  He  had  put 
two  victories  between  himself  and  Pimlico.  And  if,  in 
men's  eyes,  he  had  ever  resembled  his  famous  progeni- 

369 


370  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

tor,  the  likeness  was  never  greater  than  at  this  memora- 
ble period.  Parallel  pictures  of  the  illustrious  kinsmen 
filled  front  sheets  even  of  journals  which  as  a  rule 
despised  illustrations,  and  flooded  shop  windows  wherein 
customarily  you  might  look  for  anything  rather  than 
photographs.  One  enterprising  trader,  an  Italian  ware- 
houseman in  the  Boulevard  Malsherbes,  managed  to 
get  both  monarchs  onto  the  same  surface.  The  device 
passed  into  instant  favour.  It  enabled  Parisians  to  note 
how  much  the  present  Emperor  outstripped  his  ancestor 
in  modesty  of  demeanour. 

This  modesty  was  an  especial  feature.  Every  one 
who  caught  a  glimpse  of  Napoleon  as  he  passed  on  his 
triumphal  progress  noted  it;  and  every  one  who  noted 
it  was  pleased.  All  things  considered,  it  may  not  have 
been  difficult  to  assume,  but  none  the  less  it  was  extremely 
meritorious.  It  did  not  serve  in  any  way  to  give  undue 
prominence  to  the  services  of  Marshal  Mesnil,  General 
Clisserole,  or  subordinate  leaders,  yet  it  created  a  favour- 
able impression.  Most  of  all,  it  helped  to  counteract  the 
first  low  mutterings  of  discontent  which  came  from  those 
who  held  that  Berlin  ought  to  have  been  blotted  out. 

Unhappily,  there  were  many  such,  Prince  Felix  among 
them.  A  letter  of  his,  written  from  Auteuil  about  this 
time,  was  redirected  by  a  paternal  post-office  to  the  Pre- 
mier, who  put  it  away  among  his  most  cherished  pos- 
sessions. It  shows  the  kind  fellow's  view  of  the 
situation. 

It  invoked  "My  beloved  Hadamard, "  whom  it  ap- 
prised of  "  our  continued  good  health.  Both  Christina 
and  I  send  you  best  wishes  for  the  new  year,  though  it 
is  four  months  off.  I,  for  one,  sha'n't  be  sorry  to  bid  this 
current  Abomination  good-bye.  It  has  proved  a  poor 
friend  to  me.  First,  it  places  that  wretched  Capelli  on 
the  throne;  secondly,  it  keeps  him  alive.  My  doctor, 
who  meets  him  constantly  about  town,  tells  me  that  his 
death  from  delirium  tremens  is  merely  a  matter  of  weeks. 
Yet  he  does  n't  die!  Felix,  pity  me!  At  least  I  am  pre- 
pared for  any  emergency.  De  Morin  has  promised  to 
summon  me  at  the  first  approach  of  dissolution;  and,  as 
you  know,  omnibuses  pass  this  door  every  few  minutes. 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  371 

I  say  omnibuses  advisedly;  I  cannot  any  longer  afford 
even  a  fiacre.  Christina  has  been  compelled  to  sell  the 
victoria  which  the  young  English  milor  gave  us  two  win- 
ters ago.  The  theatres,  you  see,  are  empty,  while  Eng- 
lish milors  do  not  dare  venture  into  this  perturbed  land. 
The  dear  child  talks  gloomily  of  returning  to  her  con- 
vent in  Malmo.  Come  to  us,  Felix,  or  we  perish.  Succour 
us  of  your  moneybags,  cherished  Judas,  or  I  lose  the 
noblest  friend  Sweden  ever  gave  mortal  man.  The  cana- 
ries in  the  hall  are  dying  for  want  of  water.  We  can 
give  them  no  food;  we  are  compelled  to  turn  them  out 
to  get  their  meat  as  best  they  can  from  richer  neigh- 
bours. Two  of  them  have  already  had  a  pleasant  time 
with  a  strange  cat.  Felix,  our  need  is  such  that  I  have 
been  compelled  to  enter  into  a  conspiracy  to  hasten 
Capelli's  approaching  end.  General  Changarnier  is  the 
pivot.  He,  it  seems,  owes  Parchments  a  grudge  for  not 
giving  him  a  baton  when  Mesnil  and  Clisserole  received 
theirs.  He  has  got  hold  of  a  certain  Senator  Loog, 
whom  I  do  not  know,  and  your  humble  namesake.  Join 
us,  Hadamard!  You  and  I  are  both  Felix;  let  us  put 
our  fortunes  on  the  same  chance.  We  mean  to  approach 
Monsieur  Nadez.  He  does  these  things  very  expedi- 
tiously,  I  understand;  and  I  hear  on  all  sides  that  his 
terms  are  moderate.  Naturally,  we  shall  leave  the  weapon 
to  him;  he  has  had  experience.  Personally,  I  prefer  ex- 
plosive bullets — they  are  so  conclusive.  Changarnier 
says  knives.  Loog — oh,  he  is  merely  a  cipher,  no  one 
cares  what  he  says.  Christina  suggests  hemlock ;  but  it 
is  so  deuced  hard  to  administer.  She  calls!  Do  not 
forget  to  come  to  me,  dear  one.  Farewell." 

But  Monsieur  Carache  preserved  a  discreet  silence 
upon  these  unpleasant  topics.  And  Majesty  went  bliss- 
fully forward  in  contented  ignorance.  He  felt  that  he 
might  now  regard  himself  as  secure  in  the  saddle.  He 
doubted  whether  the  great  Emperor,  even  after  Ulm,  had 
been  more  popular.  Nevertheless  he  was  glad  enough 
when  all  the  pageantry  was  over,  and  he  and  the  Grand 
Chamberlain  could  once  more  resume  their  tranquil  occu- 
pations. 

"  I  think  a  few  days  in  the  country,"  he  suggested  to 


372  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

this  venerable  relative  directly  the  first  chance  offered, 
"may  soothe  my  nerves." 

"  You  have  just  come  from  the  country.  And  people 
will  expect  you  to  remain  in  Paris." 

"  I  only  meant  a  day  or  two,  to  breathe  the  fresh 
air. ' ' 

"The  Villa  Yvonne  at  Meaux,"  says  De  Morin 
bluntly,  "  has  been  converted  into  a  home  for  conva- 
lescent officers.  By  his  Majesty's  orders,  let  me  add." 

"Oh." 

"Moreover,  the  Earl  and  dear  Henriette  and  their 
sweet  children  are  proposing  to  spend  the  winter  in 
Russia." 

"Oh,"  repeated  his  Majesty. 

The  Chamberlain's  communication — like  so  many  of 
that  genial  gentleman's  utterances — was  intended  as  a 
nasty  one.  He  delivered  it  with  great  deliberateness, 
then  waited  blandly  for  Napoleon  to  wince  and  flush 
crimson.  He  waited  in  vain,  and  began  to  think  that  the 
other  had  been  studying  his  own  imperturbable  de- 
meanour. He  was,  however,  too  keen  a  reader  of  the 
human  countenance  to  belong  deceived.  The  first  faint 
look  of  surprise,  followed  instantly  and  obliterated  by  a 
nod  of  indifferent  acquiescence,  gave  him  full  insight 
into  the  Imperial  heart  wherefrom  all  memory  of  Muriel 
was  slowly  passing.  Maybe  the  spell  was  dead  alto- 
gether. In  any  case  it  was  no  longer  strong  enough  to 
make  this  ardent  lover  aught  but  coldly  desirous  of  a 
fresh  glimpse  of  her,  who,  but  a  month  ago,  had  wholly 
filled  such  part  of  his  universe  as  was  not  already  occu- 
pied by  the  contemplation  of  his  own  magnificence. 

So  the  Grand  Chamberlain  went  upon  his  way  rejoi- 
cing. He  knew  well  enough  that  the  Framlinghams 
never  came  to  Paris.  His  brilliant  manoeuvre  rendered 
it  equally  certain  that  his  master  would  never  return  to 
Meaux.  He  chose,  as  a  last  string,  to  credit  the  rumour 
— given  him  by  Carache — of  the  Earl's  forthcoming  visit 
to  Russia.  So  the  two  young  people  would  never  meet 
again.  Whenever  his  thoughts  turned  to  the  contempla- 
tion of  this  little  piece  of  diplomacy,  he  hugged  himself. 
Indeed,  he  became  so  elated,  that  he  resolved  to  run 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  373 

down  to  the  Villa  Yvonne  and  have  a  look  at  the  maimed 
patriots  who  had  proved  such  useful  allies. 

In  Meaux  itself  these  warriors  had  not  been  viewed 
quite  so  complacently.  The  inhabitants  of  that  charm- 
ing spot  saw  their  town  little  by  little  assuming,  under 
the  third  Empire,  the  position  held  by  Compiegne  under 
the  second.  Had  not  Majesty  favoured  the  villa  first 
among  his  many  retreats?  Had  he  not  lingered  there  two 
out  of  the  nine  weeks  which  composed  his  reign?  The 
war  satisfactorily  concluded,  they  looked  for  a  period  of 
gaiety  that  should  fill  their  streets  with  guests  and  lackeys 
and  gold.  The  authorities  had  already  ordered  plans 
for  a  private  theatre,  to  be  built  in  the  villa  grounds. 
They  offered  it  as  a  mark  of  loyal  esteem.  Likewise  in 
the  hope  that  it  might  attract. 

Picture,  then,  the  dismay  of  every  patriotic  citizen 
when  invalids  burst  into  the  sacred  precincts  as  though 
they  had  come  to  stop.  The  entire  community  lashed 
itself  into  a  fury.  The  chief  drug-store  threatened  to 
boycott  the  invaders;  but,  luckily  for  its  reputation, 
repented.  The  other  tradesmen  went  in  a  body,  tearful 
and  indignant,  to  pray  the  Mayor's  good  offices.  The 
Mayor  consulted  the  Prefect;  the  Prefect  sought  Madame 
Verre.  Madame  Verre,  after  much  weary  meditation 
and  sundry  little  furtive  expeditions  to  view  the  invalids 
from  behind  a  quickset  hedge,  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  they  were  merely  acute,  and  that  happy  days  would 
come  again.  This  opinion  was  in  due  course  communi- 
cated to  the  tradesmen,  who  thanked  the  Mayor  and 
withdrew;  while  Madame  flitted  hither  and  thither,  nar- 
rating to  her  friends  how  she  had  presided  at  the  dawn- 
ing of  hope. 

"  My  dear  Henriette,"  she  exclaimed  to  Lady  Fram- 
lingham  in  the  course  of  one  of  these  visits,  "you  may 
be  quite  certain  that  Napoleon  will  not  remain  in  Paris 
longer  than  he  can  help."  It  was  the  morning  after 
"  Grand  day  ";  the  two  ladies  were  seated  in  the  draw- 
ing-room of  the  Villa  Henriette. 

"  No,  most  certainly  he  will  not  stay  in  Paris  a  mo- 
ment after  it  is  necessary,"  Madame  went  on.  "  There 
is  the  meeting  of  the  Legislative  Assembly  to-day,  and 


374  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

the  review  on  Friday.  Mark  my  word,  he  will  leave  the 
capital  on  Saturday!  " — she  leant  forward  with  a  show  of 
great  mystery. 

"  You  ask,  where  will  he  go?  "  Madame  paused  for  a 
reply.  The  Countess,  however,  contented  herself  with 
a  nod  of  infinite  wisdom. 

"Where  will  he  go?"  insisted  Madame.  "Not  to 
Cannes,  surely.  Brittany  is  too  cold.  Compiegne  he 
dare  not  revive.  He  loathes  Fontainebleau,  I  have  it  as 
a  fact." 

"The  Chateau  d'Urville? "  Henriette  suggested 
faintly. 

Madame  shut  her  eyes  tight.  "  It  would  be  in  shame- 
ful taste.  No,  Meaux  alone  is  possible.  Remember 
my  words,  dear  Henriette,  the  Emperor  will  sleep  here 
on  Saturday." 

"And  the  convalescents?  " 

"The  convalescents,"  the  other  rejoined,  now  going 
quite  blind,  "  will  return  to  their  homes.  Twelve  were 
despatched  yesterday;  my  coachman  met  them  on  their 
way  to  the  station.  Six  alone  remain;  and  of  these,  two 
looked  so  ill  when  I  last  saw  them,  that  I  expect  they 
are  already  dead.  The  other  four,  if  worst  came  to  the 
worst,  might  be  billetted  over  the  neighbourhood.  I  have 
calculated  the  whole  thing  out  from  end  to  end.  Monsieur 
Verre  says  I  am  wrong.  I  say  I  am  right.  We  have 
been  friends  now  so  long,  dear  Henriette,  you  won't 
mind  my  adding  that  Verre  is  a  perfect  fool. " 

"Not  at  all,"  murmured  Lady  Framlingham  lan- 
guidly, like  the  high-born  English  lady  she  was;  "  not  in 
the  least. "  Next  minute  she  had  left  repose,  and  dashed 
off  into  a  violent  diatribe  against  England  in  general 
and  one  Englishman  in  particular. 

"Why  should  he  want  to  leave  Paris  just  as  the 
winter  season  is  commencing?  You  must  be  wrong,  dear 
Louise;  I  feel  convinced  of  it.  The  Emperor  is  not  a 
fool.  Why  should  he  disappear  at  a  time  when  every  one 
is  thinking  of  him;  applauding  his  conquests,  and  madly 
craning  forward  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  face?  No,  no, 
a  thousand  times  no!  He  will  lead  Paris  this  winter; 
there  will  be  balls  at  the  Elyse"e,  concerts  and  dinner- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  375 

parties.  All  the  world  will  be  there,  save  our  wretched 
selves.  Poor  me!  my  fate  is  a  miserable  time  at  that 
soaking  Tipton-St.-John!  Fugh,  the  place  has  a  name 
like  a  cannibal  island!  Ah,  Louise,  you  were  wise  not 
to  marry  out  of  your  own  country." 

At  dinner,  that  same  evening,  my  lady  renewed  her 
lamentation.  It  was  a  family  gathering  of  so  select  a 
character  that  not  more  than  eight  persons  were  present. 
Nicholas  Fersen  counted  one,  and  he  was  the  only 
stranger.  My  lady's  audience  included  her  brother,  and 
her  brother's  little  boy,  and  all  her  children.  She 
addressed  her  grievances  to  every  one  in  turn,  except  her 
husband,  for  whom  they  were  principally  intended. 

The  Earl  sat  facing  his  consort,  watching  her  gesticu- 
lations, and  wondering  how  in  the  world  he  had  ever 
come  to  marry  her.  And  his  look — one  regrets  to  have 
to  confess  it — contained  the  merest  touch  of  direct  repul- 
sion towards  his  helpmeet  of  twenty-seven  years.  Her 
volatility  shocked  him,  as  it  never  failed  to  do;  while  her 
assumption  of  repose — the  quality  of  all  which  he  valued 
most  highly — struck  him  as  more  odious  to-night  than 
ever  before.  Our  men  at  Ulundi,  who  saw  the  enemy  in 
their  dead  comrades'  clothes,  must  have  had  much  the 
same  feeling.  Madame,  on  her  side,  never  repaid  his  at- 
tention by  so  much  as  a  momentary  glance.  Her  quick- 
moving  eyes  scrutinized  every  one  and  every  thing  the 
room  contained,  but  they  always  avoided  her  husband's 
face.  Maybe  they  were  so  very  restless  because  of  this 
one  corner  of  forbidden  ground. 

Lord  Mendril,  more  than  ever  like  his  mother,  now 
that  he  was  beside  her,  enclosed  my  lady  between  him- 
self and  the  Honourable  Charles.  The  two  young  men 
did  not  pay  much  heed  to  their  voluble  relative.  They 
were  discussing  the  end  of  the  cricket  season,  and 
the  Countess  hated  cricket  almost  as  cordially  as  she 
detested  England.  Uncle  Louis,  on  the  other  side  of 
Charles,  threw  in  an  occasional  remark.  He  did  not 
share  in  his  sister's  antipathy,  but  then  he  knew  about 
as  much  of  the  game  as  he  did  of  the  Grand  Monarch. 
The  farther  end  of  the  table  was  far  more  subdued. 
Lord  Framlingham's  engrossing  occupation  has  received 


376  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

its  mention;  Count  Fersen's  probably  needs  none.  Little 
Paul  de  Murinac  was  busy  with  the  one  consuming 
thought  that  to-morrow  night  would  see  him  inside  the 
sacred  portals;  his  cousin,  Muriel,  sat  equally  silent 
before  the  prospect  of  her  approaching  return  home. 

Was  she  sorry? — really  she  hardly  knew.  Since 
Napoleon's  departure  her  fancy  had  been  just  as  busy 
as  before  with  crowns  imperial  and  bee  bespangled 
robes.  But  she  would  not  scheme,  she  could  not  scheme, 
to  get  them.  She  preferred,  rather,  to  leave  herself  pas- 
sive in  the  hands  of  fate — or  of  her  mother.  She 
intended  so  to  leave  herself,  and  her  only  contribution 
would  be  to  dream,  to  dream,  to  dream.  She  knew  his 
love;  she  had  no  notion  that  it  only  needed  a  fortnight 
to  evaporate.  She  knew,  too,  that  the  war  was  mostly 
of  her  making.  Curious  as  it  may  seem,  she  did  not  at 
all  connect  herself  with  the  slaughter.  If  she  had,  prob- 
ably it  would  not  have  frozen  her  blood.  Nothing  is 
really  of  any  importance  in  this  world.  Any  one  who 
chooses  to  become,  say,  a  parricide  can  find  out  so  much 
for  himself.  Dear  reader,  you  won't  talk  any  more  non- 
sense about  "  sinking  into  the  earth  "  once  you  have  had 
your  first  half-hour  in  the  dock.  In  a  single  sentence, 
the  young  lady  flung  away  rudder  and  compass  at  a 
time  when  she  wanted  them  most  of  all. 

"Paul,"  cried  his  aunt,  bursting  through  the  County 
Averages  that  cut  her  off  from  the  lower  end  of  the 
table, — "Paul,  you  are  very  silent.  Muriel,  amuse  the 
little  one." 

"I  do  not  know  why  you  should  be  so  silent,"  she 
went  on,  not  noticing  that  Muriel  made  no  visible  effort 
to  obey  her.  "I  only  wish  I  were  going  to  winter  in 
Paris.  Muriel,  you  agree  with  me?  " 

Muriel  did  not  answer. 

"I  suppose  you  will  remain  there  a  week  or  so?" 
asked  the  Earl  of  his  brother-in-law.  It  was  the  nearest 
he  and  Madame  usually  got  to  direct  conversation. 

Louis  straightened  himself.  "  I  return  to  Avize  to- 
morrow night,"  and  he  closed  his  mouth  with  a  decisive 
click.  He  was  thinking  of  that  brand-new  scheme 
reposing  in  his  desk  at  home,  and  wherein  it  was  laid 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  377 

down  that  he  should  actually,  and  for  the  last  time,  com- 
mence "the  new  mode  "  of  life  on  the  evening  of  Sep- 
tember 10,  189-. 

"You  will  change  your  mind  when  you  get  there," 
said  his  sister  maliciously. 

"  Pardon  me,  Henriette.  Pray,  allow  me  to  know  my 
own  business  best.  I  shall  spend  but  a  few  hours  in 
Paris — in  fact,  merely  long  enough  to  buy  Paul  some 
things,  and  introduce  him  to  Monsieur  de  Morin." 

"How  absurd!  You  and  your  good  wife  might  just 
as  well  pass  the  winter  there.  What  is  there  to  keep  you 
at  Avize?  Of  course,  you  will  say  you  prefer  the  coun- 
try. Well,  in  my  humble  opinion,  you  ought  to  sacrifice 
yourself  sometimes  " — with  a  savage  look  at  the  chandelier 
— "for  the  sake  of  your  family." 

"Nothing  to  keep  me  at  home?"  he  cried,  full  of 
indignation;  "dearest  Henriette,  surely  you  forget  how 
busy  I  shall  be  throughout  the  entire  winter.  I  can 
barely  spare  these  few  days." 

"Dearest  Henriette,"  however,  remained  uncon- 
vinced. 

"What  can  you  find  to  make  you  busy." 

"Plenty  of  things,"  he  retorted,  with  a  pompous 
defiance.  "  In  the  first  place  we  are  trying  a  new  manure 
for  the  cucumbers.  Then  there  is  my  history." 

"Oh,  your  history!  I  had  forgotten  that,"  exclaimed 
Madame,  indulging,  at  the  same  time,  in  a  malignant 
little  simper.  "I  should  have  thought  that  Paris  was 
far  the  most  convenient  spot  for  writing  in.  You  have 
no  libraries  at  Avize." 

' '  I  buy  my  books, ' '  and  Louis  could  not  be  got  to  say 
another  word  about  his  magnum  opus. 

"  Henriette, "  her  husband  said  coldly,  addressing 
De  Murinac,  "does  not  understand  country  life.  She  is 
not  fond  of  Tipton-St. -John.  " 

"No,  indeed  I  am  not,"  she  answered  on  her  side, 
looking  at  Walter;  "it  is  damp,  and  dull,  and  disagree- 
able. As  children,  I  remember,  we  used  to  complain 
bitterly  of  Avize.  It  is  paradise  to  Tipton." 

The  two  young  men  left  Grace  and  the  Somersetshire 
brethren  who  played  in  top-hats  and  frock-coats  at  a 


378  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

county  match, — an  incident  which  all  cricketers  worthy 
of  the  name  seem  to  have  on  the  brain, — and  listened. 
The  Honourable  Charles  got  him  ready  to  help  my  lady, 
while  Walter  prepared  to  keep  the  peace. 

"Tipton!"  resumed  their  mother,  in  tones  of  deep 
contempt  that  grew  shriller  by  degrees;  "  the  only  thing 
that  makes  the  place  endurable  is  the  Convent  Chapel  at 
Sidmouth.  Oh,  Nicholas,  you  do  not  know  how  I  appre- 
ciate that  one  blessing." 

"I  am  sure  I  wish  you  were  coming  to  Paris  instead," 
the  young  Russian  answered,  his  eyes  where  they  always 
were  in  Muriel's  presence. 

My  lady's  reference  to  her  religion  at  this  early  stage 
in  the  game  showed  what  amount  of  hope  she  had  in 
achieving  success.  Curiously,  it  was  not  followed  by  the 
expected  outburst. 

The  Earl's  sole  reply  was  to  smile  across  at  Muriel. 
"We  have  been  in  France  long  enough.  My  little  girl 
wanted  to  spend  an  extra  week  here,  and  we  have  done 
as  she  desired.  But  the  fortnight  is  up,  and  she  is  as 
eager  as  I  am  to  get  home.  Is  it  not  so,  dearest?  " 

She  smiled  back  at  him,  but  she  did  not  trust  herself 
to  speak.  Her  silence  evidently  came  as  a  surprise. 

"Why,  Muriel,  you  surely  do  not  want  to  go  to  Paris?  " 

She  did  not  answer.  Nicholas  Fersen  flushed  with 
pleasure.  He  fancied  that  he  could  read  her  meaning; 
he  began  to  see  victory  within  his  grasp. 

"Always  Muriel,"  the  Countess  put  in,  looking  sav- 
agely at  Louis's  beard.  "Why  should  I  never  be  con- 
sidered? I  am  your  wife.  I  say  I  am  treated  cruelly. 
Winter  after  winter  I  am  dragged  off  to  that  abominable 
Tipton,  while  my  house  in  the  Avenue  de  Villiers,  the 
house  which  came  to  me  from  my  father,  through  my 
dear  dead  brother,  is  suffered  to  rot  away,  a  scandal  to 
our  name.  Louis,  you  may  purchase  the  house." 

"Thank  you,  sister;  I  have  no  uses  for  it." 

"I  agree  with  mother,"  added  the  Honourable 
Charles.  "Paris  will  be  very  lively  this  winter,  and  we 
shall  be  asked  everywhere.  And  as  I  am  to  go  into  the 
service,  I  think  some  regard  ought  to  be  paid  to  my 
interests  in  the  matter." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  379 

"  At  your  age,  my  son,"  said  the  father,  with  a  grave 
wisdom  which  caused  the  Honourable  Charles  unspeak- 
able annoyance,  "I  didn't  think  of  my  interests." 

The  abruptly  ended  embassy  and  the  viceroyship 
muddled  away  pulled  at  the  young  man's  tongue.  He 
had  grace  enough  to  stop  short  at  a  mumbled  whisper. 

"  During  my  whole  married  life  I  have  only  spent 
about  fifteen  weeks  in  Paris.  One  of  those,  moreover, 
was  on  my  honeymoon."  She  got  no  nearer  to  the 
blighted  mission. 

"But,  mother,  what  do  you  propose?"  asked  her 
eldest  son  suavely. 

"Ask  your  father;  he  knows  well  enough,"  she 
replied,  glaring  at  Louis. 

"What  your  mother  wants  is  that  we  should  close 
Mendril  Court  and  live  in  Paris  half  the  year." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  she  retorted  with  extreme 
heat,  this  time  giving  him  a  look  which  ought  by  rights 
to  have  killed  him;  "  it  is  a  monstrous  falsehood." 

"  Then,  what  do  you  want?  " 

"What  do  I  want,  indeed!  You  know  well  enough. 
Pray,  spare  me  that  assumption  of  ignorance.  It  is  very 
correct,  no  doubt;  but  it  annoys  me." 

"  Really,"  muttered  my  Lord  under  his  breath,  "your 
manners  are  atrocious." 

Walter  interposed. 

"  Mother  would  be  quite  content  with  three  months 
in  Paris." 

"Three  months  are  better  than  nothing,"  she 
grumbled. 

"What  does  my  little  girl  say?"  the  Earl  asked, 
softening.  "  I  know  she  wants  to  get  back  to  Mendril." 

But  even  yet  she  could  not  find  her  tongue.  The 
father's  mouth  hardened.  He  bent  over  his  plate  in 
silence.  Then,  dropping  his  fork  and  spoon  with  a 
clatter,  he  shook  himself  free  from  the  table,  and  flung 
out  of  the  room.  It  was  among  his  little  habits,  and  it 
accounted  for  his  unpopularity. 

But  on  the  lawn  afterwards,  whither  Muriel  and 
Fersen  alone,  of  all  the  rest,  had  gone  to  tempt  the 
autumn  evening,  he  approached  them  with  softened  face. 


380  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Nicholas  had  just  that  moment  asked  a  familiar  question, 
and  Muriel  had  given  a  familiar  and  unsatisfactory 
answer;  and  neither  of  the  young  people  was  looking 
over-pleased. 

"  Sir,"  the  Russian  burst  out,  as  Framlingham  fell  in 
line  with  them  and  took  his  daughter's  arm,  "I  am  try- 
ing to  persuade  Muriel  to  come  to  St.  Petersburg  this 
winter. " 

"The  Earl  laughed.  "Oh,  you  have  got  farther 
than  Paris  now!  "  said  he.  "And  what  about  Muriel's 
poor  old  father?  " 

"  I  mean  the  two  of  you,  sir.  I  am  going  in  Novem- 
ber: I  will  take  charge  of  you." 

"  I  daresay  you  will,  you  young  diplomatist.  One 
thing  at  a  time,  though,"  and  he  turned  lovingly  to  his 
daughter.  "  Does  my  little  girl  really  think  she  would 
like  to  spend  the  winter  in  Paris?  " 

"It  will  be  a  change,  father,"  she  managed  to 
murmur. 

"  Then  she  shall  have  the  change." 

"Come  to  Petersburg,"  pleaded  Fersen.  "It's 
every  bit  as  gay;  and  not  so  common." 

"You  egotist,"  laughed  my  lord.  "  How  long  are 
you  away?  " 

"Till  the  end  of  the  year,"  the  boy  muttered  rue- 
fully. "You  won't  be  persuaded  to  come?  My  mother 
will  make  you  very  welcome.  She  has  never  seen 
Muriel." 

"  Another  year,  Nicholas." 

"It  is  always  that." 

"Come,  my  little  girl." 

With  her  arm  still  linked  in  his  he  led  her  into  the 
centre  of  the  drawing-room,  Fersen  following. 

"Very  well,  then,"  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "since  my 
little  daughter  wishes  it,  we  will  spend  the  next  few 
months  in  Paris." 

Madame  clapped  her  hands  with  joy.  She  even  ven- 
tured to  pat  her  husband's  disengaged  arm,  an  attention 
which  he  did  not  relish. 

"  How  sweet  of  you,  dear  Walter,"  she  cried.  I  will 
write  to  Marie  to-night."  It  was  not  long,  however, 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  381 

before  she  called  to  mind  her  husband's  manner  of  con- 
ferring this  boon.  By  bedtime  she  discovered  that  she 
disliked  him  as  much  as  ever.  As  for  Muriel,  her  sole 
response  to  her  father's  kindness  was  the  cold  remark 
that  he  was  mistaken  if  he  fancied  she  pined  for  Paris. 
And,  as  a  fact,  she  did  not — now  that  the  boon  had  been 
granted. 


Chapter  II 


For  the  next  few  days  De  Morin  was  busy — very 
busy,  but  also  very  cheerful.  The  storm  and  stress  of 
the  Revenge  had  terminated  happily;  the  Empire,  which 
he  had,  so  to  speak,  refounded,  seemed  firmly  set  upon 
its  feet;  and  it  now  remained  to  make  it  socially  suc- 
cessful. This  was  his  department,  and  he  approached  it 
with  all  the  vigour  of  a  youth  of  fifty.  His  office  table 
groaned  under  lists  classifying  men  according  to  their 
quality,  marking  off  some  as  worthy  to  be  dined  or 
danced,  or  both,  and  others  as  only  to  be  received  in 
herds  and  regaled  on  sandwiches  and  lemonade.  It  was 
an  arduous  undertaking,  but  none  the  less  enjoyable. 
For  the  Chamberlain  knew  well  that  no  man,  save  per- 
haps a  judge  on  gaol  delivery,  had  greater  power  than 
himself  to  inflict  pain  and  annoyance  on  so  many  virtu- 
ous people.  Then,  his  experience  gained  as  Vice-Cham- 
berlain under  the  second  Empire  materially  lightened  his 
task.  He  refreshed  his  memories  of  that  gilded  time, 
determined,  if  he  could,  to  revive  its  Catholic  invitation 
lists.  And  he  rubbed  his  hands  as  he  bethought  him 
how  he  would  gather  all  Paris,  all  France,  into  his  net; 
how  that  there  should  not  be  a  villa  at  Neuilly,  a  retired 
family  house  at  Versailles,  which  did  not  in  some  form  or 
other  bend  beneath  his  sway. 

Yes,  it  was  to  be  a  period  of  widespread  gaiety.  He 
would  show  the  insolent  Carache,  the  enigmatical  Mesnil, 
the  dull,  well-meaning  Brisson,  their  limitations.  Not 
one  of  them  had  any  real  power  to  popularize  the  new 
order;  it  needed  his  own  department  to  do  that. 

So  Monsieur  de  Morin  was  busy  and  cheerful.  And 
when  in  course  of  time  the  Framlingham  family  came  up 
for  consideration,  he  placed  them  on  the  most  exalted 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  383 

list  with  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life.  It  was  a  privilege 
thus  to  be  able  to  humour  his  master  without  doing  any 
real  damage.  He  knew  all  about  the  abandoned  town 
house  and  my  lady's  woes;  and  he  felt  deep  sorrow  not 
to  be  able  to  grieve  as  he  should  do  for  these  miseries  of 
his  dearest  and  best  friend.  For,  after  much  pondering, 
he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  a  Bonaparte-Mendril 
marriage  was  not  desirable.  To  be  sure,  it  was  after 
very  much  pondering  indeed;  and  the  conclusion,  when 
arrived  at,  did  not  show  an  imposing  front.  The  reasons 
on  one  side  and  the  other  were  so  equally  balanced  that 
to  decide  meant  the  deepest  searchings  of  heart. 

It  certainly  would  strengthen  his  own  position  to 
have  Muriel  Mendril,  the  grand-daughter  of  his  bosom 
friend,  now  dead,  upon  the  throne.  But  then,  what 
profit  to  strengthen  his  own  position  at  the  cost  of 
weakening  the  Empire?  That  that  must  fall  about  was 
beyond  question.  The  upper  classes  would  be  con- 
sumed by  jealousy,  while  the  whole  nation  would  rise 
in  protest  against  an  English  alliance,  even  though  the 
bride  had  been  a  member  of  the  ruling  family.  Again, 
there  was  another  objection.  Napoleon  needed  the 
strength  of  kinship  with  some  sovereign  house.  Why, 
on  "Grand  Day"  itself,  Monsieur  Oscar  Prehlen  had 
taken  the  Count  into  a  convenient  corner  and  hinted  at 
a  Russian  princess,  whose  name  he  did  not  specify,  but 
whose  face  he  declared  to  be  a  dream. 

But  the  Grand  Chamberlain  had  also  private  reasons. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  there  lurked  one  soft  spot  in 
his  heart;  and  it  was  the  growth  of  many  a  solitary 
hour — to  wit,  the  memory  of  his  old  friend  Gustave  de 
Murinac,  that  fiery  whirlwind  of  a  fellow,  who,  having 
walked  with  him  as  a  brother  for  wellnigh  twenty  years, 
had  disappeared  one  day  in  a  blaze  of  lurid  flame.  He 
could  not  commit  the  chances  of  the  poor  child's  hap- 
piness to  Napoleon's  tender  mercies.  With  King  Arthur 
for  her  consort,  her  life  would  be  bounded  on  all  sides 
by  trouble.  And  De  Morin  knew  his  master:  thrice 
unhappy  the  woman  who  had  to  lean  on  him.  But  to 
resume.  Our  old  friend  placed  the  Framlinghams  on 
the  most  exalted  list,  humming  a  cheerful  little  air  as  he 


384  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

did  so.  It  brought  a  smile  to  his  face  to  think  of 
the  Imperial  mandate  left  unopened,  and  to  rot  upon 
some  dust-laden  kitchen  table  among  the  basement 
cobwebs. 

One  afternoon  occasion  took  him  into  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  Avenue  de  Villiers.  He  had  business  with 
Marshal  Mesnil,  wh'o  lived  in  the  Rue  Legendre.  The 
business  done,  he  could  not  deny  himself  the  pleasure — 
he  never  could — of  having  a  look  at  number  forty-seven, 
and  recalling  those  days  that  were  as  dear  as  they  were 
long  departed.  It  was  quite  six  weeks  since  his  last 
visit,  accordingly  he  came  back  to  it  with  all  the  delight 
of  a  hungering  heart. 

Alas,  a  first  glance  showed  him  that  it  was  about  to 
pass  into  the  hands  of  the  alien  and  the  stranger.  They 
were  actually  painting  the  facade,  that  dear  old  yellow 
fa?ade  which  had  been  filthy  in  Gustave's  time.  Yes, 
they  were  painting  the  facade,  and  papering  the  walls — 
he  could  see  as  much  through  the  windows — and  white- 
washing the  ceiling,  obliterating  the  stains  which  he  had 
made  with  Gustave's  regalias.  So  it  was  to  pass  at  last. 
Others  would  surround  the  board  at  which  his  dead 
friend  had  shouted  and  roared  and  bellowed  and  drunk. 
Children's  voices  would  once  more  break  the  silence 
which  had  held  sway  for  twenty  years.  Ah  me!  he 
thought,  how  vain  and  fleeting  were  all  human  things. 
Folks,  especially  very  old  ones,  tried  to  make  time  lag 
by  hanging  tender  memories  round  rustic  stiles  and 
bricks  and  mortar  and  river  banks,  forgetting  that  they 
themselves  were  part  of  the  procession,  and  that  what 
they  mourned  as  so  long  departed  was  really  only  a  very 
little  way  in  front.  But,  but — and  he  came  to  the 
present  tense  and  the  first  person  in  his  very  present 
misery — the  rush  of  life  shows  us  our  folly.  Strangers 
burst  into  our  silent  rooms.  They  fling  open  the 
windows,  fugh!  with  harsh  voices  that  chide  our  sacred 
dust.  Relentlessly  they  cleanse  them  of  their  damp  and 
— and  of  our  sweet  regrets  which  have  dwelt  in  them 
so  long. 

These  pleasing  reflections  carried  him  well  on  his 
backward  way.  Crossing  the  Palace  courtyard,  he 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  385 

stumbled  upon  Paul  de  Murinac,  who,  on  his  side,  was 
hastening  to  meet  his  good-natured  Aunt  Henriette  at 
the  Gare  de  L'Est. 

"My  poor  little  Paul,"  said  the  venerable  Chamber- 
lain, with  his  smile  of  tender  melancholy,  and  a  gentle 
hand  upon  the  crown  of  the  lad's  hat,  "my  poor  little 
Paul,  they  have  sold  your  dear  grandfather's  house  in 
the  Avenue  de  Villiers. " 

Paul  stared  at  him. 

"  But,  Monsieur,  it  has  been  sold  many  years.  My 
aunt  Henriette  bought  it  from  the  executors  before  I 
was  born." 

"I  know,  I  know.  Child,  what  I  mean  is,  your  aunt 
has  just  sold  it." 

The  look  of  perplexity  deepened  upon  the  boy's  face. 

"But  Monsieur,"  he  repeated  hopelessly,  "my  aunt 
and  uncle  are  coming  to  live  in  it  themselves.  My 
aunt  is  to  be  in  town  this  morning,  to  see  about  some 
furniture.  I  am  to'meet  her  at  the  railway  station  and 
to  lunch  with  her,"  and  perceiving  that  the  Chamber- 
lain's only  answer  was  an  impatient  gesture,  as  of  dis- 
missal, Paul  started  off  once  more  on  his  way  to  meet 
his  good-natured  aunt  Henriette  at  the  Gare  de  L'Est. 

De  Morin  went  back  to  his  lists,  and  to  a  disconso- 
late survey  of  the  Framlingham  entry.  His  old  friend 
Henriette  had  not  treated  him  quite  fairly  in  this  matter. 
She  had  assured  him  on  several  occasions  that  she 
never  obtained  a  single  day  in  Paris  from  one  year's 
end  to  another.  He  felt  disappointed  in  her;  it  was  not 
grateful,  considering  how  good  he  had  been  to  all  of 
them  in  bygone  days;  how  frequently  he  had  suffered 
them  to  proclaim  his  apartment  in  a  state  of  siege. 
But  the  mandates  had  gone  forth  and  left  him  power- 
less. In  any  case  he  could  not  have  drawn  back  now. 
Old  days  forbade. 

He  took  comfort  in  the  thought  that  the  danger  was 
not  so  very  threatening.  He  fancied — and  not  without 
due  cause — that  he  knew  his  master  by  now  and  his 
master's  little  ways.  He  considered  the  latter's  shallow 
heart,  his  weak  and  yielding  nature.  And  he  made  no 
doubt  that  with  a  leetle  skilful  handling,  not  to  mention 


386  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

one  or  two  hours  by  the  way,  he  would  get  him  past  his 
dearest  Muriel,  and  land  him  in  Monsieur  Prehlen's 
capacious  net.  The  girl  and  her  mother  might  live  to 
thank  him.  So  he  suffered  in  silence,  and  bore  Hen- 
riette's  invitations  with  fair  equanimity.  He  receive/1  a 
good  many;  for  my  lady  possessed  a  warm  heart:  she 
soon  promoted  him  to  the  position  of  long-lost  parental 
uncle.  The  Earl  and  Countess  and  two  of  their  children 
came  to  the  first  grand  reception  of  the  season.  Na- 
poleon welcomed  them  with  marked  distinction.  He 
bestowed  a  smile  for  the  two  scions  of  the  house  to 
divide  between  them.  And  while  he  smiled,  not  a  trace 
of  colour  came  into  his  sallow  face.  Muriel  was  curtsey- 
ing low  at  the  moment,  consequently  De  Morin  could 
not  see  how  she  took  her  half. 

The  Earl  and  Countess  and  two  of  their  children 
came  to  the  second  grand  reception  of  the  season.  The 
whole  previous  formula  was  repeated;  only  Lord  Mendril 
merely  got  a  quarter  this  time.  Then  they  came  to  a 
dance,  and  Bonaparte  danced  half  a  dance  with  the 
Countess,  but  made  no  attempt  to  get  the  other  half 
with  her  daughter. 

Then  they  were  invited  to  dine.  After  dinner,  the 
Emperor  exchanged  a  dozen  words  with  Lord  Framling- 
ham,  and  succeeding  in  making — for  the  first  time  in 
De  Morin's  view — a  polite  remark  to  Muriel,  who  was 
standing  beside  her  father. 

And  the  Count,  who  always  kept  lynx-eyes  upon 
them  whenever  they  came  into  the  same  orbit  of  vision, 
grew  daily  more  calmly  confident.  It  simplified  matters 
very  much  to  have  to  deal  with  a  master  who  was  weak 
enough  to  like  to  toy  with  temptation,  and  not  deep 
enough  to  hold  a  lasting  passion. 

But  upon  a  certain  evening — the  night  of  another 
ball  at  the  Elysee,  whereat  the  Emperor  had  also  danced 
half  a  dance  with  Lady  Framlingham — there  came  a 
slight  rebuff.  De  Morin  was  standing  some  few  paces 
off  his  master,  as  usual  watching  him  and  wondering 
whether  the  Meaux  affair  had  not  been,  after  all,  a  fig- 
ment of  Brisson's  brain.  Suddenly  the  grey  eyes,  which 
smiled  without  sweetness,  and  wandered  restlessly  over 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  387 

everything  without  observing  anything,  became  fixed. 
A  spasm  of  pain  shot  across  the  mobile  face.  De  Morin 
wheeled  sharply.  Yes,  there  at  the  farther  end  of  a 
smaller  chamber  stood  Muriel;  she  was  in  the  act  of 
exchanging  her  brother's  arm  for  Count  Fersen's,  and 
Lord  Mendril  seemed  content  with  the  exchange. 

What  a  handsome  pair  they  made.  Napoleon's  look 
of  anguish  flashed  a  brilliant  idea  into  the  old  fellow's 
brain.  It  seemed  a  way  out  of  all  difficulties.  He 
broached  it  gingerly  to  Henriette  the  next  time  he  found 
himself  at  number  forty-seven.  She,  however,  did  not 
let  him  get  beyond  his  first  sentence;  declaring  that  he 
was  an  old  match-maker,  and  that  no  child  of  hers  should 
ever  become  a  Muscovite, — no,  not  to  be  Empress  of 
Russia.  Then  she  proceeded  to  ask  him,  with  fascinat- 
ing archness,  whether  it  was  really  true  that  Napoleon 
intended  to  revive  the  glories  of  Compiegne. 

"  When  sorrows  come. "  The  Chamberlain  returned 
to  the  palace  from  Lady  Framlingham's  to  find  Godefroy 
wandering  about  his  official  suite  like  an  afflicted  soul. 
The  valet  unfolded  a  woeful  tale.  Within  three  short 
weeks  of  "  Grand  Day,"  and  but  fourteen  days  of  their 
second  meeting,  this  great  Conqueror — Godefroy 
wheezed  and  blinked  more  than  ever — was  once  again 
prostrate  at  the  feet  of  Muriel  Mendril.  And  this  time 
the  disease  had  him  tight  within  its  grasp.  Another 
little  war  might  free  him — nothing  less  would.  He  sat 
for  hours  in  his  library,  without  stirring  hand  or  foot, 
listless  and  lovelorn,  waiting  for  the  dragging  hours  to 
bring  him  to  another  of  those  meetings,  which  gave  him 
half  a  dozen  unsatisfactory  glimpses,  and  a  fresh  lease  of 
his  heartache.  It  was  pitiable  to  behold  Caesar  thus  in 
chains.  It  seemed  an  accursed  mischance  that  brought 
the  girl  a  second  time  across  his  path.  Innocent 
or  not,  ignorant  of  this  passion,  or  fully  conscious,  she 
was  bound  to  be  its  victim.  Godefroy  felt  anxious  to 
save  her,  but  of  course  he  had  most  at  heart  to  heal  his 
master  and  restore  that  atmosphere  of  complacent 
industry  which  should  pervade  all  well-conducted  palaces. 
At  present  the  business  of  state,  so  far  as  it  came  under 
Napoleon,  lay  totally  neglected.  Despatches  were 


388  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

placed  before  him  at  nine  of  mornings,  for  him  to  read 
and  sign:  they  were  removed  at  one,  unsigned,  unread. 
Public  ceremonies  were  scamped  in  a  manner  calculated 
to  destroy  all  reverence  for  the  throne.  Carache  grum- 
bled. Marshal  Brisson  grumbled.  Marshal  Mesnil 
grumbled — no,  he  did  something  else;  and,  really,  Gode- 
froy  dared  not  blame  him.  The  two  warriors  were  busy 
with  garrisons  for  Lower  Alsace.  Many  points  could 
not  be  so  much  as  discussed  between  them  without  first 
advising  with  his  Majesty.  And  Napoleon,  barricaded 
in  his  library,  reclining  upon  the  sofa  that  lent  itself 
most  to  the  abandoned  condition  of  his  mind,  and  gazing 
blankly  at  the  portion  of  his  laden  book-shelves  which 
might  be  said  to  cover  the  Avenue  de  Villiers,  would 
not  be  advised  with.  When  they  did  penetrate  into  the 
Presence,  they  met  with  no  success.  His  powers  of 
application  were  at  the  lowest  ebb  compatible  with 
sanity;  consequently  he  left  them  to  settle  their  point 
according  to  their  liking.  The  only  tangible  result  was 
a  sharp  reprimand  for  Godefroy  from  both  sides. 

The  valet  wound  up  his  story  with  a  bitter  complaint. 
The  Chamberlain  might  not  be  prepared  to  end  this 
infatuation,  said  he,  for  the  sake  of  his  master;  nor,  per- 
haps, for  the  sake  of  the  young  lady;  nor  of  the  business 
of  the  country.  Very  well,  then,  he  must  implore  him 
to  stop  it  for  his  sake — his,  Godefroy's;  for  stop  it  must, 
if  Napoleon  was  to  retain  one  of  the  most  devoted  of 
body-servants  monarch  ever  had. 

The  Chamberlain  replied  that  he  was  only  too  anxious 
to  do  all  he  could  to  terminate  this  unhappy  madness; 
but  that  he  was  not  God,  to  interfere  with  the  human 
heart.  Neither  was  he  a  powerful  body-servant,  but 
merely  a  poor  Grand  Chamberlain  whose  main  function 
lay  in  watching  that  the  guests  did  not  misappropriate 
the  forks  at  Imperial  receptions.  And  he  bowed  him  out 
of  his  presence. 

Godefroy  withdrew  in  a  condition  of  sombre  astonish- 
ment. He  had  not  looked  for  such  curt  treatment;  it 
convinced  him  that  his  hours  as  personal  attendant  upon 
royalty  were  slipping  to  their  end. 

But,  in  reality,  his  words  had  sunk  deep  into  De  Morin's 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  389 

heart.  Nor  were  they  allowed  time  to  lose  their  sting. 
Thirty-eight  hours  after  this  last  warning,  came  step 
number  three  in  the  sad  process  of  disillusionment. 

It  dealt  with  Compiegne.  On  this  occasion,  also,  the 
Chamberlain  was  returning  home  after  an  afternoon 
visit — this  time  to  the  Rue  de  Crenelle.  The  Russian 
Ambassador  had  been  very  cheerful  and  communicative, 
telling  him  a  great  deal  about  his  Aunt  Ottilia  and  his 
departed  parents,  and  something  about  the  Russian 
marriage.  He  might  not  yet  disclose  her  identity,  but 
he  assured  De  Morin  that  the  Princess's  face  was  a  dream 
of  loveliness.  The  Chamberlain  made  his  way  to  his 
rooms,  with  these  things  heavy  on  his  mind,  and  in  the 
course  of  his  journey  came  across  his  august  master. 

The  Count  stood  respectfully  to  one  side.  Napoleon 
stretched  out  his  arm  and  drew  him  gently  along  toward 
his  own  apartment.  Upon  their  way  they  passed  a 
group  of  pages  lounging  before  a  blazing  fire,  who  sprang 
to  their  feet  directly  these  great  ones  came  in  sight,  not 
a  little  ashamed  of  their  lazy  attitudes. 

"So,  young  gentlemen,"  the  Emperor  said  gravely, 
stopping  to  survey  them  with  all  the  majestic  delibera- 
tion of  a  certain  well-known  head  master,  "you  waste 
your  time  in  front  of  fires  on  a  beautiful  afternoon 
like  this?"  His  eyes  lit  upon  Paul  de  Murinac.  The 
boy  held  a  book  in  his  hand.  He  had  not  been  lounging 
with  the  rest;  and  he  gazed  boldly  at  his  master,  think- 
ing how  fine  and  noble  the  latter  looked,  and  what  a 
privilege  it  would  be  to  die  for  him  upon  the  field  of 
battle.  His  three  companions  continued  to  hang  their 
heads. 

"We  are  on  duty,  sire,"  stammered  the  elder  of 
them. 

"That  is  no  excuse  for  idleness.  Why  do  you  not 
read,  like  your  comrade  yonder?  What  is  the  book,  my 
lad?" 

Paul  handed  it  up  without  the  least  embarrassment. 
It  proved  to  be  one  of  those  shilling  productions,  at  that 
time  flooding  Paris,  which  purported  to  give  a  faithful 
account  of  the  late  campaign.  Napoleon  laughed  when 
he  saw  the  title-page. 


390  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  You  are  an  Imperialist,  that  is  quite  clear." 

The  boy  blushed.  How  genial  this  great  Emperor 
was,  and,  withal,  how  penetrating  thus  to  discover  who 
were  the  devoted  hearts  in  his  service.  Napoleon  had 
handed  the  book  to  De  Morin,  who  now  restored  it  to  its 
owner  without  comment. 

"  You  are  a  brave  little  fellow,  and  I  like  to  think  that 
France  holds  many  such  as  you."  Majesty  spoke  in  a 
louder  voice  than  before,  and  with  something  of  an 
aggressive  touch,  as  it  seemed  to  his  faithful  servant. 
He  bestowed  a  stern  look  on  Paul's  companions,  and 
swept  on  his  way,  leaving  the  Chamberlain  to  follow  at 
his  pleasure.  In  the  library,  Napoleon  sat  down  straight- 
way at  his  papers.  He  elaborately  forgot  the  other's 
existence.  It  was  an  ugly  sight,— the  servant,  bent 
with  years,  waiting  the  pleasure  of  a  master  perhaps  a 
third  his  age.  To  do  our  hero  justice,  it  was  not  a  sight 
his  inclinations  would  ordinarily  have  tolerated.  But 
his  uncle's  behaviour  over  that  book  had  touched  him  in 
a  tender  spot.  His  future  happiness,  if  nothing  else, 
called  for  some  token  of  resentment. 

"His  Majesty  will  forgive  me  if  I  am  seated,"  De 
Morin  presently  exclaimed,  sinking  gratefully  into  a 
chair;  "  I  am  an  old  man. " 

"  My  dear  friend,"  Bonaparte  rejoined — he  employed 
a  grave  manner  hardly  in  keeping  with  his  cordial  words 
— "my  dear  friend,  what  a  question!  You  entered  so 
quietly,  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  there." 

"  I  understood  that  your  Majesty  desired  to  speak 
with  me." 

"  No — and  yet,  now  that  you  are  here — "  Napoleon 
subsided  into  a  fit  of  gloomy  abstraction. 

"You  desire  my  opinion  about  Alsace-Lorraine?  "  De 
Morin  suggested. 

"Why? — are  not  Mesnil  and  Brisson  enough?" 

"  You  wish  to  confer  with  me  concerning  a  change  of 
ministers?  " 

"My  word,  you  are  in  a  very  presumptuous  mood 
to-night.  I  want  to  consult  you  about  nothing  more  im- 
portant than  Compiegne. " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  391 

The  Chamberlain  indulged  in  a  respectful  little  sigh 
of  grateful  relief. 

"  Do  you  remember  Compiegne?  " 

"Certainly  I  do.  The  Emperor  forgets  that  I  was  in 
the  service  of  his  august  cousin." 

"Tell  me  something  about  it." 

"Compiegne  is  a  small  town  situated  at  the  edge — " 

"  No,  no.  About  the  life  that  was  lived  there  in  my 
cousin's  time." 

"Ah,  sire,  you  push  my  memory  hard." 

"  Surely  no  eyewitness  can  ever  forget  the  glories  of 
those  days?  " 

"At  the  time,  I  do  not  think  any  of  us  treated  them 
as  such.  I  remember  we  used  to  eat  and  drink  a  good 
deal." 

"Historians  have  so  described  them." 

"You  refer  to  the  journalists  who  used  to  visit  there. 
Journalists  always  speak  of  '  glories '  where  there  is 
plenty  to  eat  and  drink." 

The  Emperor  took  a  new  line.  "  Is  the  place  still 
habitable?  "  he  asked.  The  question  caught  De  Morin 
off  his  guard. 

"The  court  could  move  there  to-morrow." 

"Ah,  uncle,  I  am  very  miserable,"  with  a  burst  of 
melancholy,  which  showed  how  pleased  he  was  to  get  this 
answer. 

"  Nephew,  it  goes  to  my  heart  to  hear  you  say  so." 

"  And  the  grounds,"  Bonaparte  went  on,  still  plunged 
in  gloom,  "are  they  in  a  satisfactory  condition? :' 

"  They  ought  to  be.  Men  are  paid  to  keep  the  place 
in  order." 

"Then  why  should  we  not  revive  the  eating  and 
drinking?  " 

"  The  expense." 

"  Surely  they  will  not  grudge  me  that!  "  His  petulance 
might  have  been  born  and  bred  in  the  purple.  "  I  have 
won  them  back  the  provinces — ahem,  Lower  Alsace." 

"But — " 

"There  are  no  buts.  Recollect  how  useful  these 
gatherings  were  to  the  late  Emperor." 


392  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Napoleon  was  already  busy  with  his  engagement 
book.  "Yes,"  he  said  before  long,  "the  fourth  Satur- 
day in  October.  On  that  date,  my  dear  De  Morin,  we 
will  resurrect  the  glories  of  Compiegne. " 

"As  you  please.  I  will  note  your  Majesty's  com- 
mands. Whom  would  you  desire  to  meet?  " 

"Oh,  you  can  see  to  that," — supremely  indifferent. 

"Good,  I  will  see  to  it,"  and  the  Chamberlain 
promptly  snapped  his  engagement-book  and  returned  it 
to  his  waistcoat  pocket.  And  without  another  word,  he 
rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  leisurely  towards  the 
door. 

"De  Morin." 

"Sire?" 

"Spare  me  a  few  moments  longer.  I  have  more  to 
say  to  you." 

"  My  time  is  always  at  my  master's  disposal." 

"  Be  seated,  then, — no,  not  so  far  off;  come  nearer." 

The  Chamberlain  came  nearer. 

"  De  Morin." 

"Sire?" 

"Oh,  De  Morin,  I  am  very  unhappy." 

"You  have  said  so.     I  am  grieved  to  hear  it." 

"I  have  no  one  in  whom  I  can  confide,  no  one." 

"It  is  the  penalty  of  your  position." 

The  Emperor  was  striding  up  and  down  the  room. 
He  stopped  short  in  his  perambulations,  and  tapped  ner- 
vously upon  the  ground. 

"  Count  de  Morin." 

"Your  Majesty?" 

"Concerning  Compiegne:  have  you  settled  upon  the 
guests?" 

"I  think  the  first  party  should  be  more  or  less  mili- 
tary. We  might  have  Mesnil,  and  Brisson,  and  Clis- 
serole;  the  General  is  just  leaving  for  Strasburg, — it  will 
be  a  delicate  compliment." 

"  But,  dear  friend,  we  must  have  another  element,  else 
it  will  be  all  war,  and  nothing  else.  Bring  Carache.  And 
you  might  have  an  ambassador  or  so.  Lord  Threpps,  for 
choice;  the  English  take  less  amusing." 

There   ensued   a   chilly   silence;    the   Chamberlain's 


THE    FOURTH  NAPOLEON  393 

note-book  was  open  upon  his  knee,  but  beyond  that  he 
gave  his  master  no  assistance.  The  latter  had  to  fight 
the  thing  out  single-handed. 

"Let  me  see,"  Bonaparte  mused  deeply,  "we  had 
better  have  Lord  Framlingham  to  keep  his  countryman 
company. ' ' 

"  Lord  and  Lady  Framlingham?  " 

"Yes,  and  their  eldest  son,  of  course,  and  their 
daughter — in  the  usual  way,"  the  young  man  responded 
gruffly. 

The  Chamberlain  laid  aside  his  note-book;  he  had 
grown  suddenly  tender  and  full  of  pity. 

"  Will  it  not  serve  to  render  you  the  more  unhappy?  " 

"You  think  it  will  always  be  impossible? " 

"Quite  impossible." 

"  Please,  please  include  them.  If  it  is  impossible,  no 
harm  can  come." 

An  afternoon  in  mid-October;  the  north  wind  fled 
along  the  Avenue  de  Villiers  in  gusts  that  moaned  as 
they  stirred  the  rotting  leaves.  The  lamps  flickered  in 
the  grey  twilight,  without,  however,  helping  to  dispel 
the  pervading  gloom.  It  wanted  the  glow  of  the  central 
boulevards  to  do  that.  Most  men  seemed  to  think  so 
too;  the  thoroughfare  was  deserted,  save  for  a  sombre 
file  of  carriages  outside  number  forty-seven. 

Number  forty-seven!  What  a  change  had  come  to  it 
during  the  last  few  weeks.  For  years  it  had  stood  empty 
and  neglected,  without  so  much  as  a  single  caretaker  to 
mitigate  its  loneliness.  The  neighbouring  landlords 
were  wont  to  complain  bitterly  of  its  begrimed  facade 
and  filthy  windows;  of  its  front  door,  from  off  which  the 
paint  had  been  ruthlessly  burnt  and  blistered.  It  grew 
to  be  known  as  a  scandal  to  Paris,  the  most  beautiful  of 
cities;  as  a  reproach  to  Albion,  the  most  perverse  of 
nations.  Was  it  to  be  endured  that  a  haughty  English 
noble  should  engird  himself  (and  the  key)  within  the 
walls  of  his  castle  and  leave  this  terrible  eyesore  to  de- 
populate a  fashionable  suburb?  No!  a  thousand  times 
no!  goddam!  So  the  landlords,  concerting,  flung  down 
the  gage  of  battle.  They  were  ignominiously  beaten  in 


394  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

the  court  of  first  instance.  They  appealed.  While  their 
appeal  was  pending,  indeed  only  a  fortnight  before  the 
case  came  on  for  trial,  number  forty-seven  was  suddenly 
thrown  open  to  an  invading  horde  of  painters  and  clean- 
ers and  upholsterers,  and  the  house  was  purged  of  its 
offending  from  top  to  toe.  A  few  short  days,  and  the 
front  could  vie  for  whiteness  with  any  the  street  con- 
tained. The  glistening  windows  gave  out  that  faint  shade 
of  purple  only  to  be  found  in  glass  of  the  most  aristo- 
cratic kind.  The  door  shone  with  green.  The  neigh- 
bouring landlords  forgave  and  forgot.  Most  of  them 
were  wealthy  shop-keepers,  so  their  advances  took  the 
form  of  trade  circulars.  Nor  was  their  generosity  unde- 
served. My  lord  and  my  lady  made  up  for  past  years. 
They  gave  balls  and  dinners  and  afternoon  receptions, 
and  their  threshold  admitted  all  that  was  best  in  Paris. 
They  were,  moreover,  intimate  at  the  Elysee.  Indeed, 
men  whispered  that  the  only  daughter,  Lady  Muriel,  was 
making  some  impression  on  the  Imperial  heart. 

Madame  was  holding  one  of  her  receptions  upon  this 
afternoon  in  mid-October  when  the  north  wind  fled  along 
the  Avenue  de  Villiers  in  gusts  that  moaned  as  they 
stirred  the  rotting  leaves. 

Slowly  the  twilight  darkened.  Every  minute  the 
street  lamps  became  more  useful,  though  not  more 
cheering.  The  sombre  file  of  carriages  began  to 
sparkle. 

The  great  door  of  forty-seven  was  flung  open.  It  let 
forth  the  Russian  Ambassador  and  the  Count  de  Morin, 
both  enveloped  in  a  blaze  of  light.  These  eminent  per- 
sons stood  for  a  brief  period  on  the  doorstep.  Monsieur 
Prehlen  surveyed  the  shrouded  sky  with  a  certain  anx- 
iousness,  while  the  Grand  Chamberlain  gazed  serenely 
into  space,  waiting  for  his  companion  to  lead  the  way. 

"Shall  we  drive?  "  asked  the  Ambassador,  using  a 
tenderness  which  seemed  to  take  into  account  De  Morin's 
venerable  age. 

"  By  all  means." 

Monsieur  Prehlen  turned  to  the  footman.  "  Call  the 
Count  de  Morin's  carriage." 

"Bless  you,"  blithely,    "my  carriage  is  not  here." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  395 

"  Nor  mine." 

The  footman  drew  back,  an  expression  of  poignant 
grief  upon  his  face. 

"Gentlemen,  there  are  no  cabs." 

"Then  we  must  walk.  Come,  Prehlen,  you  are  a 
younger  man  than  I  am." 

"So  you  are  meaning  to  revive  the  glories  of  Com- 
piegne?  "  the  Norwegian  began,  when  they  had  got  some 
little  way. 

"  I  have  to  make  the  attempt. " 

"The  Grand  Chamberlain  can  never  fail." 

"You  flatter  me,"  with  a  deprecatory  gesture. 

"An  impossibility.  The  other  day,  in  writing  to  my 
Aunt  Ottilia,  I  mentioned  that  the  Emperor  lived  in  an 
atmosphere  of  flattery;  that  the  Marshals  lived  in  an  at- 
mosphere of  flattery;  that  the  Premier  lived  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  flattery;  and  that  the  only  man  whose  virtues 
were  of  a  kind  to  render  flattery  impossible  was  the 
only  man — I  forget  the  rest,  but  you  can  guess  it." 

"  And  what  did  your  aunt  say?  " 

"She  has  not  answered." 

The  file  which  they  had  left  before  Madame's  door 
was  rapidly  diminishing.  Every  now  and  then  a  carriage 
dashed  past  them  to  disappear  into  the  grey.  Prehlen 
followed  it  with  sad  eyes.  "  How  I  wish  I  was  snug  at 
home,"  he  murmured  more  than  once. 

"  Prehlen,  you  cunning  dog,  shall  I  tell  you  what  it  is 
you  most  desire  at  the  present  moment?  " 

His  Excellency's  gloom  increased. 

"  What,  you  have  pierced  my  front  of  forced  cheer- 
fulness? Then  it  is  useless  to  dissemble.  You  have  half 
my  secret, — take  all !  I  am  suffering  from  an  unmerited 
domestic  affliction." 

It  was  a  curious  thing  how  De  Morin,  so  sleek  and  in- 
sinuating with  everybody  else,  ever  having  some  allotted 
task  of  destruction  or  circumvention  before  his  eyes,  and 
always  moving  towards  it  by  means  of  innuendo  and  on  his 
belly,  became,  by  contrast  with  the  Russian  Ambassador, 
an  open  and  hearty  old  gentleman.  The  wrinkles  about 
his  eyes  smoothed  themselves  out.  His  voice  lost  its 
purring  note :  his  happy  smile,  so  eloquent  of  inward 


396  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

calm,  gathered  greater  directness  and  candour.  He  now 
looked  at  men — or  rather  at  one  man — not  at  inanimate 
objects,  and  at  the  present  juncture  his  gaze  was  one  of 
intense  astonishment. 

"Domestic  affliction,"  he  murmured;  "I  did  not 
know  that  it  affected  you  in  this  way.  Is  your  wife  very 
outrageous?  " 

Prehlen  gulped  down  a  sob.  "  It 's  not  my  wife.  My 
accursed  elder  brother — " 

The  Chamberlain's  surprise  widened  into  a  grin. 

"  My  dear  Prehlen,  what  has  your  elder  brother  to  do 
with  Compiegne?  You  have  drunk  too  much  of  that 
English  '  grog  ' ;  it  was  very  nice. " 

"Who  spoke  about  Compiegne?  You  say  you  can 
read  the  great  desire  of  my  heart.  Well,  I  desire  before 
aught  else  to  slay  my  brother — the  Christiania  ice  mer- 
chant. This  monster — as  I  learnt  yesterday — has  taken 
advantage  of  my  prolonged  absence  to  appropriate  the 
whole  of  my  dear  dead  mother's  estate,  wherein  we  were  to 
share  and  share  alike.  He  has  robbed  me  of  fifteen 
thousand  crowns — me,  an  orphan  with  a  Muscovite  wife! 
The  villain!  the  black-hearted  villain!  " 

It  was  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger.  An  "erring 
pearl  "  hung  for  a  single  instant  upon  either  eyelid, 
then  rolled  slowly  down  each  cheek,  and  disappeared 
into  his  beard. 

But  a  diplomatist  must  not  indulge  in  private  woe. 
With  a  superhuman  effort  he  mastered  his  sorrow,  swal- 
lowing down  a  couple  more  sobs. 

"You  were  speaking  about  Compiegne?  "  he  recom- 
menced softly. 

"Ah,  yes,  Compiegne.  My  master  will  hope  to  see 
you  there  before  the  winter  finishes." 

"I  shall  be  overjoyed.  I  presume  one  need  not 
bring  one's  wife?  " 

"I  will  remember  to  omit  her." 

"How  curious,"  resumed  Prehlen,  "to  be  back  at 
dear  old  Compiegne.  It  was  there  that  you  and  I  first 
met.  Count,  you  recollect?  It  must  have  been  in  '67; 
I  was  low  down  the  ladder  in  those  days,  while  you — 
you  had  already  gained  some  taste  of  your  future  emi- 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  397 

nence.  Dear,  dear  place,  a  fresh  sight  of  it  will  bring 
tender  memories." 

"Let  me  see,  how  often  were  you  there?" 

"Only  once,"  the  Norwegian  responded,  with  a 
cheerfulness  that  never  faltered.  "One  visit  always 
suffices  me  to  sow  pleasant  memories." 

"  To  me  those  memories  are  not  so  pleasant.  I  would 
to  God  that  the  house  were  suffered  to  moulder  on  in  its 
solitude  of  thirty  years.  I  hate  it.  I  hate  every  memory 
that  clings  around  its  bedizened  walls.  I  hate  its  very 
name.  Monsieur  Prehlen,  you  are  a  friend,  with  you  I 
may  speak  frankly.  This  direct  invitation  to  the  world 
to  compare  us  with  the  second  Empire  will  not  benefit  us 
much  in  public  estimation.  Believe  me,  the  comparison 
is  already  being  made." 

"In  more  particulars  than  one,"  murmured  the  Am- 
bassador. De  Morin  took  no  notice,  so  the  former  came 
a  step  nearer. 

"  They  are  very  successful,"  said  he  with  a  backward 
nod,  which — seeing  that  they  were  already  on  the  Quai 
des  Tuileries — might  have  referred  to  any  one  or  any 
thing. 

De  Morin  took  it  to  refer  to  the  panorama  in  the 
Champs  Elyse"es. 

"Very.  Only  last  week  fifty  thousand  people  passed 
through  the  turnstile.  It  is  the  battle  of  Manheulles, 
you  know.  Mesnil  assures  me  that  it  is  a  capital  repre- 
sentation. 

"  I  meant  the  Framlinghams. " 

"I  mistook.  Yes,  they  are  very  successful.  Madame 
resembles  her  father,  old  Gustave  de  Murinac,  in  more 
ways  than  one.  He  also  was  very  fond  of  gaiety.  In 
his  time  the  house  was  always  full.  The  late  Emperor 
had  a  great  affection  for  him." 

They  were  crossing  the  Pont  de  Solferino.  Prehlen 
drew  his  friend  out  of  the  stream  of  wayfarers  towards 
the  parapet,  and  the  two  men  stood  for  a  while  silently 
facing  the  island  spires. 

"  De  Morin,  do  you  remember  our  conversation  of  a 
fortnight  back?  " 

"Certainly." 


398  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"Are  not  these  Framlinghams  in  the  way?" 

"Your  Excellency  is  a  Northerner,  you  can  stand  the 
cold,"  shivered  the  old  gentleman.  "  I  cannot.  And  I 
want  to  get  my  dinner,"  and  he  recommenced  walking. 

"  Where  are  you  dining?  " 

"  At  Brisson's. " 

"Come  to  me  instead.  You  can  send  him  a  note 
from  my  place." 

"  I  dare  not.  His  mother  takes  such  things  to  heart. 
She  is  another  old  friend  of  mine,  and  I  never  get  a 
chance  of  seeing  her  outside  her  own  house." 

"  Why  does  she  never  go  to  the  Elysee?  " 

"Oh,  she  lives  a  very  retired  life." 

"  They  say  she  had  an  affair  with  Napoleon,  before 
he  gra —  before  the  coup  d'etat.'" 

"  My  God,  man !  she  might  be  his  great-grandmother. " 

"Well,  she  will  keep.     Dine  with  me,  dear  friend." 

"  Do  not  tempt  me.  They  certainly  do  have  very  bad 
food,"  he  added,  by  way  of  wistful  afterthought. 

"I  will  give  you  caviare,  and  a  bottle  of  my  very 
dry. ' ' 

"  They  won't  have  caviare,"  murmured  De  Morin. 

"And  we  will  dine  alone,"  urged  the  tempter.  "  My 
wife  sha'n't  be  there." 

"  I  '11  write  a  note." 

Accordingly,  the  Grand  Chamberlain  went  to  the  Rue 
de  Crenelle  and  wrote  his  note,  which  intimated,  with 
many  tears,  that  Madame  and  the  Marshal  would  have  to 
devour  their  fried  soles,  boiled  mutton,  and  treacle  pud- 
ding as  best  they  could  alone.  Then  the  Ambassador 
summoned  Michael  to  remove  the  Chamberlain's  boots. 
And  this  operation  successfully  performed,  he  plied  his 
aged  guest  with  caviare  and  many  other  delicacy,  and 
filled  him  with  bucketf uls  of  the  ' '  very  dry, ' '  and  dragged 
him  through  the  gamut  of  weird  narratives  dealing  with 
his  family  and  his  indigestion.  After  supper  he  de- 
posited him  in  the  warmest  corner,  putting  the  port 
within  call, — for  port  was  the  Chamberlain's  only  weak- 
ness, a  memento  of  many  exiles.  He  gave  one  last  little 
anecdote  about  his  brother,  the  ice  merchant,  which 
summoned  two  more  glistening  tears;  for  Prehlen,  too, 


THE   FOURTH    NAPOLEON  399 

liked  port.  And  thus  he  came  back  to  uninteresting 
business,  sighing  out: 

"  Let  us  return  to  the  bridge  of  Solferino. " 

"By  all  means."  De  Morin  took  two  sips,  as  if  he 
were  gathering  them  to  his  heart.  Then  he  closed  his 
eyes,  at  peace  with  all  mankind. 

"If  you  and  I,  dear  Count,"  Prehlen  said  abruptly, 
"are  working  together,  we  must  most  certainly  consider 
the  Framlinghams. " 

"  God  bless  them!     You  mean — " 

"  I  mean  the  young  lady." 

"  I  was  her  grandfather's  bosom  friend.  How  strange 
it  seems,  how  strange,  how  strange,  and  yet  how  like  the 
world!  In  the  autumn  of  '67, — the  year  of  our  first 
meeting,  my  dear  Prehlen, — Gustave  de  Murinac  had  a 
terrible  quarrel  with  the  Emperor,  which  ended  in  his 
being  forbidden  the  Palace.  I  used  to  live  next  door  to 
him,  in  those  days.  That  same  night  (October,  I  re- 
member, and  just  such  beastly  weather  as  this)  he  burst 
into  my  apartment  and  bade  me,  amid  a  torrent  of  im- 
precations, never  to  put  my  trust  in  princes;  also  to  be 
sure  and  give  him  a  call  whenever  I  was  near  Avize.  He 
told  me  that  he  had  shaken  the  dust  of  Paris  off  his  feet; 
he  left  some  of  it  on  my  carpet.  He  gave  me  an  em- 
brace that  nearly  destroyed  me:  he  departed,  and  I 
never  saw  him  more.  Through  the  entire  night  I  heard 
them  hammering  and  rushing  to  and  fro.  Next  day,  I 
had  to  attend,  unexpectedly,  at  Fontainebleau;  when  I 
returned  home,  number  forty-seven  was  empty  and  de- 
serted. 

Those  were  days  of  tribulation  for  the  faithful.  I 
made  many  attempts  to  get  to  Avize,  but  never  suc- 
ceeded. Five  years  passed  away,  and  one  sad  morning 
news  reached  me — in  England — that  my  old  friend  was 
dead.  The  death  of  his  eldest  son  had  killed  him.  That, 
and  the  unhealthy  nature  of  Avize ;  the  Champagne  dis- 
trict did  not  fit  in  with  his  gouty  tendencies.  Poor  Gus- 
tave, what  a  whirlwind  he  was.  And  yet,  what  a  poetic 
soul  as  well.  My  dear  Prehlen,  he  had  the  richest  im- 
agination of  any  man  I  ever  knew;  he  was  an  invet- 
erate dreamer  of  dreams." 


400  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"It's  very  sad,  no  doubt,"  Prehlen  broke  in,  "  but  I 
do  n't  see  anything  strange  about  it." 

"Wait.  Gustave  rejoiced  in  hordes  of  children. 
There  was  Paul,  the  eldest,"  De  Morin  commenced  to 
tell  them  off  on  his  fingers;  "he  was  killed  at  Sedan. 
There  was  Prosper,  and  Pierre,  and  Henriette — " 

"The  present  Lady  Framlingham?  " 

"  Prehlen,  you  know  everything.  She  was  one  of  my 
favourites.  She  could  not  have  been  more  than  fifteen 
at  the  time  they  left  Paris,  but  even  then  she  had  the 
sense  of  a  grown  woman." 

"  I  can  believe  it." 

"  What  handsome  children  they  all  were!  And  what 
unflagging  spirits!  Sometimes  they  would  proclaim  my 
apartment  in  a  state  of  siege,  and  I  was  not  even  allowed 
to  move  about  the  corridors.  Poor  Paul,  he  was  always 
playing  at  soldiers,"  and  for  a  few  weak  moments  the 
Chamberlain  saw  only  the  bright  young  face,  which  would 
have  been  by  now  every  bit  as  dead  if  Paul  had  lived. 

"To  get  back  to  Henriette,"  whispered  Prehlen. 

"  The  last  I  heard  of  her  was  that  she  had  married  a 
certain  Lord  Mendril,  some  six  months  after  her  father's 
death.  Then  I  lost  sight  of  the  lot  of  them  for  close 
upon  thirty  years.  She  and  I  met  again  at  Meaux  rail- 
way station,  one  morning  in  the  summer  of  this  year." 

"Where  were  you  during  Lord  Framlingham's  em- 
bassy? " 

"  I  did  not  recognize  the  name.  Their  term  was  very 
short;  and  I  never  visited." 

"And  yet  you  are  with  me?"  exclaimed  the  Nor- 
wegian, coming  back  to  the  present  at  a  single  bound. 

"Your  project  is  likely  to  benefit  France,  so  I  am 
with  you.  But,  dear  friend,  no  one  thinks  of  a  Mendril 
marriage.  The  whole  affair  is  a  figment  of  your  fevered 
brain. " 

Prehlen  shook  his  head. 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  secret,"  urged  the  Chamberlain; 
"the  dear  child  is  already  engaged." 

"To  whom?" — "To  your  attache,  Count  Fersen.  " 
— "  You  surprise  me." — "I  had  it  in  strict  confidence. 
You  won't  mention  it?  " — "  Not  to  a  living  soul — except 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  401 

to  Fersen." — "You  are  a  vampire.  But  it  is  quite  true 
that  he  loves  her." — "  He  has  a  Catholic  heart." — "  And 
she — she  is  not  averse  to  him." — "So  he  tells  me — 
sometimes. " — "  I  wish  she  would  have  him. " — "  So  do  I ; 
but  she  never  will." — "Why?  " 

"  Because  the  Emperor  loves  her,  and  she  knows  it," 
exclaimed  Prehlen;  and  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
gave  himself  over  to  deep  thought. 

"Is  it  not  a  fact,"  he  asked  presently,  "that  the 
Framlinghams  are  going  to  Compiegne?  " 

"I  daresay  they  will  be  included  in  one  of  the  par- 
ties." 

"They  are  included  in  the  first — next  Saturday's? 
Am  I  not  right?  " 

"  You  are  a  spy. " 

"  Not  at  all. "  He  paused  for  a  minute.  "  I  did  not 
notice  Lord  Framlingham  at  his  wife's  reception." 

"  Do  you  attend  all  Madame's?  " 

"  The  gods  forbid!     He  is  not  so  busy  as  I  am." 

"He  does  a  good  deal  of  shopping  when  he  is  in 
Paris." 

"  I  understand  that  he  has  gone  to  England?  "  pur- 
sued Prehlen. 

"On  important  business." 

"Then  he  has  gone.  lam  commencing  to  see  the 
thing  complete." 

"You  have  the  advantage  of  me,"  moaned  De  Morin. 
Next  minute,  in  a  burst  of  undiplomatic  frankness,  he 
exclaimed: 

"Listen,  you  wretch.  This  is  what  happened  this 
afternoon,"  and  he  plunged  forthwith  into  the  story. 
Lady  Framlingham  had  taken  him  on  one  side  to  inform 
him  that  her  husband  had  left  suddenly  for  England,  on 
business  which  she  evidently  despised;  and  that  it  was 
doubtful  whether  he  would  be  back  in  time  to  escort  them 
to  Compiegne.  Might  she  therefore  adhere  to  her  accept- 
ance, at  any  rate  until  Thursday,  and  then  if  her  hus- 
band was  not  back  she  would  let  her  old  friend  know — 
"  it  will  be  very  sad  to  have  to  refuse  after  all," — De 
Morin  repeated  her  actual  words, — "  but  Walter  may  be 
back;  and,  dear,  dear  uncle,  I  don't  want  to  with- 


402  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

draw  our  acceptance  unless  it  becomes  absolutely  nec- 
essary. " 

Prehlen  heard  him  gravely  through. 

"Then  Lord  Framlingham  does  know,"  he  exclaimed, 
when  the  Count  had  told  his  story,  and  the  other  made 
no  attempt  to  refute  this  assertion. 

Lord  Framlingham  did  know.  His  eyes  were  every 
bit  as  keen  as  De  Morin's,  and  he  had  seen — what  he  had 
seen.  Only  a  week  prior  to  this  afternoon  in  mid-Octo- 
ber, with  the  Compiegne  invitation  just  arrived  (and 
refused,  as  he  had  ordered  and  fondly  believed),  he  had 
resolved  to  take  his  little  daughter  back  to  the  protec- 
tion of  Mendril  Court  and  the  western  seas.  Then  had 
intervened  a  sudden  summons  to  London;  and  it  looked 
as  though  the  gods  meant  to  give  her  a  safer  sanctuary 
— to  wit,  Calcutta. 


Chapter  III 


Napoleon  stood  at  the  window,  watching  the  autumn 
mists  as  they  crept  along  the  terrace  at  his  feet. 

He  had  arrived  from  Paris  barely  an  hour  back,  to 
find  the  Count  de  Morin  waiting  for  him  upon  the  thresh- 
old of  the  Salles  des  Gardes.  And  the  Grand  Chamber- 
lain, without  a  thought  for  his  master's  travel-stained 
garments,  or  for  the  footmen  that  thronged  the  corridors, 
had  carried  him  off,  then  and  there,  to  view  this  Palace  of 
Compiegne,  so  rich  in  memories  of  his  race.  Their 
progress  was  a  slow  one ;  for  the  Count,  so  bent  and  shriv- 
elled that  he  seemed  himself  merely  a  ghost  from  the 
vanished  world  he  spoke  of,  grew  garrulous,  repeo- 
pling  with  brother  phantoms  the  courts  and  galleries 
through  which  they  passed,  recalling  a  thousand  mem- 
ories long  forgotten,  and  only  now  remembered  at  this 
sight  of  long-forgotten  places.  The  task  showed  the 
Chamberlain's  character  in  a  new  and  not  unsympathetic 
light.  As  he  stood  upon  the  first  step  of  the  Apollo 
staircase,  and,  pointing  at  the  god  himself,  lamented 
departed  glories,  the  Emperor  reflected  that  he  might 
not  be  merely  the  cold-hearted,  bitter-tongued  old  cynic 
he  had  originally  supposed.  But  the  building  is  a  small 
one.  Presently  De  Morin  made  a  little  gesture  signify- 
ing that  the  show  was  over.  They  were  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  chapel.  With  quickened  step  he  led  the  way 
towards  the  Imperial  apartments.  After  many  twists 
and  turns,  but  without  a  single  error,  he  brought  his 
master  out  in  the  left  wing  of  the  Palace  and  onto  the 
threshold  of  the  latter 's  bedroom.  "Behold,"  he  cried, 
his  hand  upraised  against  the  polished  door,  "  the  sleep- 
ing-room of  Napoleon  III!  "  then,  hurriedly  and  with  a 
deprecatory  smile,  "Sire,  a  thousand  pardons! — your 
Majesty's  bedroom:  there,  to  the  right,  is  the  Council 

403 


404  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Chamber;  to  the  left,  your  study."  Upon  their  left, 
and  at  right  angles  to  the  passage  wall  of  Napoleon's 
suite,  so  as  to  bring  the  long  corridor  to  an  abrupt  ter- 
mination and  make  it  bend, — also  leftwards  and  at  a  right 
angle, — there  stood  a  pair  of  folding-doors  which  evi- 
dently led  into  a  room  of  larger  dimensions  than  any  of 
those  immediately  facing  them.  Napoleon  turned  half 
round.  De  Morin  followed  his  glance,  and  lifted  the 
cicerone's  forefinger  with  another  comprehensive  gesture. 
"  Those  doors  down  there,"  said  he,  "open  into  a  wait- 
ing-room for  all  who  may  have  business  with  his — with 
your  Majesty.  The  rooms  beyond  used  to  form  the  pri- 
vate apartments  of  the  Empress  and  the  Prince  Imperial. 
Dear  me,  it  is  already  five;  the  guests  will  be  arriving. 
I  must  go  and  see  that  the  prefect  is  in  his  place  to 
receive  them."  Napoleon  pushed  forward  into  the  bed- 
room, where  Godefroy,  with  everything  ready  for  his 
master's  coming,  sat  gazing  upward  in  rapt  attention 
at  Justice  careering  about  the  painted  ceiling.  He 
assisted  the  Emperor  to  make  his  toilet;  then  threw  open 
the  door  into  the  study,  that  the  latter  might  pass  through 
and  enjoy  half  an  hour's  solitude.  Left  to  himself,  the 
latter  had  attempted  some  settled  occupation.  The 
book-shelves  were  crowded,  a  writing-desk  lay  ready  to 
his  hand, — all  to  no  purpose.  He  walked  for  a  while 
listlessly  to  and  fro,  and  now  stood  at  the  window,  watch- 
ing the  autumn  mists  as  they  crept  along  the  terrace  at 
his  feet. 

So  this  was  Compiegne!  and  that  melancholy,  mist- 
beshrouded  landscape  yonder,  wherein  park  and  forest 
mingled  without  distinguishable  boundary,  was  the  hunt- 
ing-ground that  had  provided  happiness  for  kings  and  em- 
perors. 

The  spirit  of  the  place  took  possession  of  his  brain. 
He  forgot  himself  and  his  own  doings,  his  greatness  and 
his  littleness, — being  at  most  times  fully  conscious  of 
either, — everything,  in  fact,  except  the  sadness  stretching 
wide  beneath  him,  that  moaned  for  the  glory  of  vanished 
days. 

And  then  a  procession  of  phantoms  appeared  from  out 
the  gloom  and  made  their  way  across  the  terrace. 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  405 

In  the  van,  a  mist  of  legendary  Carollings,  passing 
quickly  enough,  and  for  no  reason  beyond  this,  that  the 
man  who  saw  them  had  been  at  pains  to  learn  something 
about  the  earlier  occupants  of  the  chair  he  sat  on. 

But  it  was  different  with  the  figures  that  followed. 

Foremost  among  these  came  St.  Louis,  his  delicate 
face  enshrining  grave,  sweet  eyes,  which  rested  upon  the 
Emperor  with  a  smile  of  infinite  pity.  Louis  XI  next, 
and  close  upon  his  heels.  There  was  not  much  tender 
pity  about  him;  his  eyes  were  mainly  on  the  ground,  with 
now  and  then  a  furtive  glance  on  either  side.  To  Na- 
poleon's perturbed  fancy  he  seemed  a  mixture  of  Mesnil 
and  De  Morin.  Then  Queen  Henrietta  of  England 
moved  slowly  forward,  journeying  towards  her  husband's 
scaffold;  and  Louis  XVI  upon  his  way  towards  his 
own. 

For  a  while  the  stone  walk  stood  empty,  a  repetition  of 
the  time  when  the  roar  of  life  was  elsewhere,  and  Com- 
piegne  deserted. 

But  presently  new  shapes  appeared,  the  most  distinct 
of  those  summoned  by  his  heated  brain. 

Napoleon  the  Great,  the  founder  of  the  race,  came 
first;  his  arms  behind  him,  in  that  pose  which  he,  the 
descendant,  so  often  strove  to  reproduce.  Bonaparte, 
the  sallow-faced,  eagle-eyed,  diminutive  Italian,  whose 
bankruptcy  and  liquidation  were  the  greatest  that  this 
world  has  ever  seen.  So  great  indeed  that  his  wife's 
chastity  and  his  child's  love  had  to  be  flung  into  the 
assets,  and  divided  ratably  among  his  creditors. 

In  his  train  there  floated  a  crowd  of  modernized 
Bourbons,  animate  anachronisms,  conscious  themselves 
of  their  own  absurdity. 

And  last  of  all,  the  third  Napoleon! — also  wound  up 
in  bankruptcy,  but  suffered  to  keep  his  home  about  him, 
because  he  had  been  wise,  and  had  not  sought  for  it 
among  princes,  and  because  bourgeois  do  not  dissolve 
partnership  in  adversity.  And  so  they  passed,  carrying 
along  with  them  the  breath  of  vanished  ages.  Kings,  and 
emperors,  and  princes;  all  bowed  to  in  their  day,  and 
called  Monseigneur;  all  dead;  their  goods  surrendered 
up  to  the  Universal  Receiver,  who  sits  without  adjourn- 


406  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

ment  or  vacation,  exercising  jurisdiction  over  all  the 
world. 

And  thinking  on  these  things,  Napoleon  endeavoured 
to  recall  those  miseries  of  unsatisfied  ambition  that  had 
given  him  a  throne.  For  his  life  he  could  not.  He 
commenced  to  wonder  how  it  was  that  he  had  ever 
wanted  to  leave  Pimlico.  Merely  to  enjoy  fame  and 
power? — things,  in  themselves,  short-lived  enough,  and 
fleeting,  yet  invariably  too  heavy  for  men's  shoulders, 
always  a  mockery  and  undeserved.  He  turned  away  with 
sorrow  at  his  heart,  and  passed  once  more  to  that  uni- 
versally favourite  occupation,  the  survey  of  his  own  hopes 
and  fears. 

The  comfortable  wood  fire,  the  lamps  shining  forth 
from  ever  so  many  corners,  had  no  attraction  for  him. 
He  could  not  remain  many  minutes  seated;  the  space 
was  too  confined  to  walk  in;  he  stepped  forth  into  the 
corridor,  and  stood  there  irresolute. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  repair  to  the  Sallesdes  Gardes 
and  find  out  whether  the  most  important  guest  had 
come.  He  yearned  for  fresh  sight  of  her;  for  another 
mouthful  of  the  exquisite  misery  that  only  increased  his 
hunger.  Besides,  he  lay  in  terrible  doubt — she  might 
not  come  at  all.  De  Morin  had  said  no  word  to  show 
how  far  he  had  obeyed  his  master's  half-hearted  direc- 
tions, while  Napoleon  himself  had  not  ventured  upon  a 
single  question.  Accordingly,  he  advanced  exactly  three 
paces  nearer  to  the  realms  which  held  the  final  answer; 
then  stopped,  and  stood  for  a  second  time  irresolute. 

What  place  was  there  for  him  in  the  entrance-hall, 
among  the  lacqueys  and  the  smaller  baggage?  What 
place,  indeed?  Uncanny  dreams  were  making  him  forget 
his  station.  He  turned  upon  his  heels,  recovered  those 
three  errant  paces,  and  moved  forward  to  the  great  fold- 
ing-doors which  led  through  the  waiting-room  into  the 
Empress's  apartments.  It  was  like  the  first  cold  touch 
of  death  to  see  their  emptiness.  Oh,  that  he  might  fill 
them  as  he  chose,  and  break  with  joyous  talk  and 
laughter  the  silence  brooding  over  them  from  close  on 
thirty  years.  And  his  memory  took  him  back  once  more, 
and  for  a  last  time,  to  the  realm  of  phantoms. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  407 

He  beheld  Eugenie  among  her  gorgeous  furniture  and 
beneath  painted  ceilings,  leading  the  talk  of  witty  men 
and  women.  The  beautiful  Eugenie,  with  her  hasty, 
generous  temper  and  easy  tears.  Her  husband  appeared 
again,  making,  so  to  speak,  his  second  entry.  How 
happy  in  his  home-life,  this  man,  ever  bending  tenderly 
over  his  only  son,  at  once  his  Reuben  and  his  Benjamin. 
How  happy,  and  oftentimes  how  gay.  Napoleon  pic- 
tured his  cousin,  the  cares  of  Empire  laid  upon  one 
side,  leading  a  romp,  calling  for  a  change  of  games; 
abandoning  "Re  Roi  de  Maroc  est  mort, "  and  begging 
them  to  substitute  "La  toilette  de  Madame"  as  the 
more  amusing;  while  "Madame"  herself  —  the  how- 
manyeth  Madame  that  had  presided  there  —  moved 
hither  and  thither  in  that  superb  way  of  hers,  paying  the 
little  heed  to  all  this  homage  that  betrayed  how  worth- 
less this  homage  really  is.  Would  not  God  give  him 
such  a  home! 

The  prayer  was  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth  when  Gode- 
froy  thrust  his  head  in  at  the  boudoir  to  warn  him  that 
dinner  was  served  and  the  guests  assembled. 

A  first  glance  showed  our  hero  the  military  nature  of 
the  gathering;  a  second,  its  woeful  incompleteness. 
Muriel  was  absent.  So  cruel  a  disappointment  darkened 
the  whole  room.  A  reckless  mood  came  over  him:  he 
did  not  attempt  to  conceal  his  chagrin.  With  a  few  cold 
bows  to  right  and  left,  he  brusquely  led  the  way  into 
dinner.  And  through  four  courses  he  spoke  monosyllables 
and  looked  daggers. 

Unfortunately,  he  found  himself  surrounded  by  sea- 
soned veterans,  who  cared  just  nothing  at  all  for  the 
thunder-clouds  that  played  about  Jove's  brow.  They 
were  quite  respectful;  and  to  begin  with,  waited  for  him 
to  suggest  the  conversation.  His  obstinate  silence  drove 
them  at  last  along  their  own  road.  They  commenced  to 
chat  about  the  late  glorious  campaign.  Little  by  little, 
Mesnil  took  the  lead,  assuming  his  master's  place  at 
this  round  table.  He  usurped  in  all  innocence;  indeed, 
a  sort  of  tacit  unanimity  (which  included  one  dissentient) 
forced  the  position  upon  him.  As  for  the  one  dissentient, 
he  sat  and  glowered  straight  in  front  of  him,  down  a  vista 


408  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

of  palms  and  roses  and  geraniums  terminating  in  a  view 
of  De  Morin's  eager  face.  What  right  had  Mesnil  to 
talk  about  Manheulles  in  the  presence  of  his  sovereign? 
What  business  had  the  whole  company  to  listen?  Why 
should  his  ugly  little  voice  enjoy  the  homage  of  an 
absolute  silence,  only  intended  by  God  for  crowned 
heads?  The  situation  grew  more  and  more  intolerable. 
Lady  Threpps,  upon  Majesty's  right,  actually  stopped 
midway  in  one  of  her  silly  sentences  to  listen  to  the 
Marshal,  who  at  that  moment  was  describing  the  camp 
at  Pagny,  with  the  help  of  his  champagne-glass  and  one 
of  Napoleon's  salt-cellars. 

The  Emperor  cleared  his  throat. 

"  My  dear  Marshal,"  he  cried,  "are  you  quite  sure 
that  you  have  got  the  farm  right?  " 

De  Morin  smiled. 

Mesnil  glanced  hurriedly  at  his  champagne-glass.  "  I 
think  so,"  said  he. 

"  In  my  recollection  the  farm  was  ever  so  much  nearer 
the  river. " 

"I  bow,  sire,  to  you,"  Mesnil  gaily  responded,  lifting 
the  farm  to  his  lips;  "and  really  it  don't  signify  one 
way  or  the  other." 

"Surely,  it  is  of  the  greatest  importance,"  urged  the 
Emperor. 

Monsieur  Verre,  at  the  other  end  of  the  table,  mut- 
tered, "naturally,  of  very  great  importance. " 

His  wife,  who  was  on  the  Emperor's  left,  turned  to 
her  left-hand  neighbour,  the  British  Ambassador,  and 
asked  him  whether  he  did  not  find  this  conversation 
between  the  heroes  most  touching  and  instructive. 
Lord  Threpps  said  "Yes,"  and  gazed  somewhat  keenly 
at  Napoleon. 

The  latter  had  already  relapsed  into  moody  silence. 
The  Marshal  left  Pagny  for  Manheulles,  and  recounted 
an  incident  of  the  battle  amid  breathless  interest.  He 
was  on  safer  ground. 

"The  funny  thing  is,"  he  wound  up,  "I  had  just 
been  treating  Captain  Miiller  to  a  severe  wigging.  His 
battery  was  the  only  one  lost,  the  whole  day  through ; 
naturally,  I  did  not  care  for  that.  '  Captain  Miiller, '  I 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  409 

said,  '  it 's  little  better  than  a  harlequin's  trick  for  an 
artillery  officer  to  go  prancing  about  in  charge  of  a  squad 
of  infantry.  They  can  do  better  without  you.  If  their 
lieutenant  is  killed,  let  the  sergeant  take  command,  and 
so  on  till  there  is  not  a  single  man  left.  You  can't  do 
just  as  you  like,  simply  because  you  're  the  nephew  of  a 
brigadier.'  He  didn't  relish  it,  you  maybe  sure.  With- 
out him — " 

"Without  him — "simpered  Lady  Threpps,  so  inter- 
ested, you  know. 

"Without  him,  Madame,  I  and  my  staff  would  have 
been  captured  to  a  man." 

"And  his  Majesty,"  rejoined  her  Ladyship,  clasping 
frightened  hands. 

"Oh,  he  was  at  another  part  of  the  field." 

"  What  reward  did  Captain  Miiller  get?  "  asked  Verre. 

"The  reward  coveted  by  all  brave  men,"  said  Mesnil, 
gobbling  down  a  last  morsal  of  partridge;  "he  died  for 
his  country." 

"Marshal  Clisserole,"  broke  in  the  Emperor,  "do 
you  tell  us  a  little  about  that  march  of  yours  after  Franche- 
ville?  Mesnil  and  I  do  not  want  people  to  imagine  that 
we  are  the  only  men  who  saw  any — any — ahem — any 
fighting." 

Clisserole,  however,  was  far  too  shy  to  launch  into 
narrative.  A  grizzled  veteran  with  gentle  eyes,  he  had 
had  to  wait  almost  to  the  end  of  his  career  for  his  oppor- 
tunity. He  made  good  use  of  it,  when  it  came.  That 
rapid  march  from  Epinal,  the  brilliant  victory  at  Franche- 
ville,  and  his  smartly  effected  junction  with  Marchmont 
outside  Nancy,  were  the  three  incidents  of  the  war  which 
had  gained  the  greatest  individual  praise  from  experts. 
Many  went  so  far  as  to  term  them  Napoleonic, — an  epithet 
which  at  other  times  caused  his  Majesty  considerable 
annoyance.  To-night,  however, Clisserole's  useful  side  lay 
uppermost.  Our  hero  reiterated  his  request.  The  Marshal 
gasped  out  that  he  was  not  able.  Mesnil,  who  had  lis- 
tened to  this  interruption  with  a  peaceful  smile  upon  his 
face,  made  leisurely  commencement  of  another  story. 

"Are  you  familiar  with  Paris?"  the  Emperor  asked 
curtly  of  Lady  Threpps. 


4>o  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  I  am  improving.      My  husband  is  teaching  me." 

"You  will  have  a  competent  guide." 

Lady  Framlingham,  too,  has  taken  me  in  hand," 
giggled  the  young  woman.  She  was  more  or  less  of  an 
ingenue",  half  the  age  of  Lord  Threpps,  and  a  wife  of 
about  a  year's  standing.  Streatham — where  stood  her 
ancestral  home — was  still  rampant  in  her.  She  rattled 
on  with  a  charming  winsomeness  which  ploughed  its  way 
through  countless  indiscretions. 

Napoleon  glanced  cautiously  across  the  foliage.  His 
Chamberlain  was  conversing  with  Monsieur  Verre  about 
the  extermination  of  caterpillars. 

"  I  had  hoped,"  said  he,  dropping  his  voice,  "  to  have 
had  the  Framlinghams  to  meet  your  ladyship." 

"So  she  told  me.  But  her  husband  had  to  go  unex- 
pectedly to  England  at  the  commencement  of  the  week. 
You  know,"  she  added  in  an  arch  aside,  "the  Viceroy 
has  suddenly  resigned.  You  must  not  breathe  a  word: 
it  is  in  none  of  the  papers.  Dear  Lord  Framlingham  will 
very  likely  get  the  post." 

"  India?  "  his  Majesty  gasped. 

"  Yes,"  she  nodded;   "  is  n't  he  fortunate?  " 

If  the  room  was  dim  before,  it  was  now  quite  dark. 
She  was  not  coming!  She  had  been  asked,  and  she  was 
not  coming!  How  he  commenced  to  hate  this  talkative 
doll  beside  him,  decked  out  in  jewels,  a  coronet  upon 
her  head  fit  to  vie  with  the  crown  imperial.  How  differ- 
ent Muriel.  In  the  midst  of  his  terrible  yearning  he 
gathered  a  touch  of  indefinable  delight  in  whatever  title 
to  possession  this  fact  could  give  him,  that  he,  the  centre 
of  so  dazzling  an  assembly,  was  miserable  because  she 
was  absent. 

"Yes,  many  a  time,"  came  De  Morin's  voice  across 
the  table.  "We  used  to  be  merry  enough  then.  We  had 
people  to  make  us  merry — Octave  Feuillet,  Countess 
Metternich,  Prosper  Merime'e,  Rouher,  De  Morny,  Lord 
Clarendon  often,  Lord  Malmesbury  sometimes,  and  many 
another  whose  name  I  have  forgotten." 

"  How  you  must  regret  them." 

"Well,  Monsieur  Verre,  I  suppose  every  man  would 
wish  to  recall  his  youth." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  411 

"I  don't  want  my  youth  back,"  grumbled  Chan- 
garnier.  "  I  had  not  such  a  pleasant  time.  While  you 
were  eating  and  swil — drinking  at  this  table,  I  had  to  keep 
my  stomach  full  on  a  franc  and  a  half  a  day.  Not  exces- 
sive, that,  for  a  growing  man,  was  it,  Monsieur  Verre?" 

"  No,  one  cannot  call  it  excessive,"  responded  Mon- 
sieur Verre.  "  I  also  had  a  hard  youth.  For  the  first  nine 
years  of  my  practice,  I  did  n't  erect  so  much  as  a  brick 
wall." 

"You  have  built  a  good  deal  since  then,"  De  Morin 
said  gracefully. 

"You  are  right.  Very  few  architects  who  began  life 
with  my  poor  prospects  have  managed  to  become  Prime 
Minister  of  France." 

"Even  for  three  weeks,"  mumbled  De  Morin. 

"Have  you  built  much?"  asked  the  literal  Lord 
Threpps. 

De  Morin  replied  for  his  bashful  friend. 

"  A  great  deal.  The  new  houses  at  Neuilly  are  his 
design.  Then  he  has  erected  some  charming  villas  in 
the  country." 

"At  Meaux,"  said  Madame  Verre.  "Why,  Lady 
Framlingham's  villa  there  was  by  my  husband.  Your 
Lordship  has  visited  it?  " 

How  the  remainder  of  that  disagreeable  evening 
passed  by,  Napoleon  never  could  discover.  It  seemed 
interminable.  The  Chamberlain  had  warned  him  that, 
on  this  his  first  guest-night  at  Compeigne,  he  must  not 
withdraw  too  soon,  so  that  his  visitors  might  grasp  how 
thoroughly  he  enjoyed  their  society.  He  had  to  move 
round  the  hateful  circle,  swallowing  inanities.  The  only 
person  present  who  consoled  him  in  the  least  was  Madame 
Changarnier.  He  fancied  that  he  could  detect  in  her 
the  faintest  trace  of  a  likeness  to  his  beloved.  He  talked 
to  her  longer  than  was  customary,  orshe  cared  for.  Her 
husband  noticed  it — he  was  much  her  senior — and  felt 
that  he  might  become  a  Marshal  after  all.  But  poor 
Napoleon  could  not  warm  himself  all  night  in  the  rays 
of  this  borrowed  refulgence.  He  had  to  move  on.  And 
when  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  Lord  Threpps, 
the  Ambassador,  who  looked  as  though  he  hailed  origi- 


412  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

nally  from  the  Dogger  Bank,  he  could  endure  the  en- 
tertainment no  longer.  Heedless  of  De  Morin,  of  every 
thing  save  his  aching  heart,  he  fled  the  festive  throng. 
He  reached  his  bedroom  and  disrobed  in  a  frenzy  of 
despair.  Then  blew  down  the  chimney  of  his  lamp  with 
a  fervour  which  nearly  caused  an  explosion,  and  plunged 
into  bed.  No,  he  could  not  sleep.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  rise  and  resume  his  garments,  flung  off  with 
so  much  eagerness.  Godefroy  must  have  expected  him 
to  finish  the  evening  in  his  study.  The  lamps  were  still 
alight.  Very  well,  he  would  finish  the  evening  there, 
aye,  and  the  night  too. 

The  window,  which  showed  the  panorama  of  Com- 
peigne,  lay  open.  The  mists  had  gone,  leaving  the  dark 
limits  of  the  land  cold  and  clear  beneath  the  moonlit 
sky.  Faint  strains  of  music  mounted  from  the  covered 
courtyard;  it  helped  to  stir  his  emotions.  His  soul 
seemed  to  become  purified  and  ennobled.  He  was  rising 
to  unknown  heights  of  heroism. 

He  would  forget  her.  The  horrible  pain  should  go 
about  with  him,  and  none  should  know.  Having  yearned 
long  for  it,  he  had  at  last  tasted  the  applause  of  millions — 
to  find  it  worthless.  He  would  taste  that  which  he  had 
rarely  longed  for,  and  never  had, — his  own.  Yes,  hence- 
forth he  would  behave  in  a  manner  worthy  his  own  com- 
mendation. Ah,  the  delight  of  it.  But  stay,  he,  a  great 
emperor,  with  nothing  left  to  gain,  what  incentive  was 
there  to  make  him  lead  a  life  like  this?  Surely,  the  same 
that  had  urged  him  on  in  days  when  he  was  a  heart- 
worn  barrister  able  to  gain  nothing.  If  that  picture  had 
been  a  pleasing  one, — the  threadbare  failure  moving 
along  the  road  of  life  triumphant,  this  new  one  was  far 
more  beautiful. 

Far,  far  more  beautiful.  The  great,  silent  Emperor; 
his  strong  face  bitter  and  saturnine,  but  bearing  a  tender 
smile  for  little  children;  the  canker  ever  at  his  breast. 
The  mighty  conqueror  carrying  this  horrible  pain  about 
with  him,  so  that  not  even  the  closest  knew.  And  that 
should  be  his  role,  when  his  turn  came  to  join  the  shades 
upon  the  terrace.  Yes,  God  helping  him,  he  would  for- 
get her. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  413 

There  came  a  tap  at  the  door.  Napoleon  knew  the 
finger  for  De  Morin's;  here  was  a  chance  to  test  his  great 
resolve. 

"Come  in,"  he  cried,  looking  half  round  with  radiant 
face. 

The  Chamberlain  may  have  expected  a  different  re- 
ception.    He  showed  no  surprise. 
"Your  Majesty  has  sent  for  me." 
"Not  I.     But  come  in,  De  Morin,  I  am  always  glad 
to  see  you." 

"  You  were  satisfied  with  to-night's  entertainment?  " 
"  More  than  satisfied.     Your  skill  in  these  matters  is 
wonderful." 

"  To  hear  such  words  from  my  master  is  a  very  great 
privilege." 

"  Count,  you  are  a  terrible  old  courtier.     Come  over 
here;  does  not  the  park  look  beautiful  by  moonlight?" 
"  Very  beautiful." 

"And  the  forest  beyond?  How  sombre  it  stands 
against  the  sky." 

"Truly.  His  Majesty  was  satisfied  with  my  choice 
of  guests?  " 

"  In  every  way. "  The  heart-anguish  which  he  was 
to  carry  with  him  always  had  begun. 

"  Pardon  me,  may  I  close  the  window?  " 
Napoleon  nodded;  De  Morin  went  on  complacently: 
"Yes,  I  flatter  myself  they  are  well  matched.  Brisson 
is  such  an  excellent  foil  to  Marshall  Mesnil.  Then, 
Clisserole  and  Changarnier  are  a  good  pair;  both  of 
them  so  similar  in  outward  appearance,  so  different  in 
everything  else." 

'  I  prefer  Marshal  Clisserole." 

'  You  are  right  in  that.     He  is  loyally  attached  to 
your  Majesty's  person." 
'  And  Changarnier? " 
'  Changarnier  is  disappointed. " 
'  He  is  dangerous?  "  urged  Napoleon. 
'  No,  no,  I  never  said  that." 
'You  implied  it." 

'  His  Majesty  will  do  well  to  be  very  careful." 
'  He  will  be  very  careful." 


414  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  The  Verres  are  a  useful  couple,"  De  Morin  pro- 
ceeded in  his  enumeration. 

"  I  do  not  like  her  manners.     She  is  too  brusque." 

"The  Republican  way." 

"  I  wish  she  would  keep  it  for  the  next  Republic." 

The  Chamberlain  smiled  and  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"They  were  stop-gaps,"  said  he.  "  The  Prime  Min- 
ister and  Madame  Carache  were  coming  originally.  Un- 
fortunately, their  only  daughter  is  dangerously  ill." 

"  I  am  sorry." 

"They  shall  know;  it  will  help  them  to  bear  up  under 
their  misfortune." 

It  was  his  Majesty's  turn  to  smile.  He  did  so,  very 
charmingly. 

"I  wish  I  could  think  so." 

"Lord  Threpps,"  the  old  man  continued,  "stopped 
me  just  now  to  tell  me  what  a  charming  evening  he  had 
spent." 

"He  looks  a  perfect  fool." 

"  Fre"ron,  who  was  at  Vienna  with  him,  says  he  is 
anything  but  — .  Now,  Lady  Threpps  presents  no  difficul- 
ties." 

"Indeed,  no,"  Napoleon  cried,  some  of  his  former 
radiance  returning.  "I  cannot  gauge  high-born  diplo- 
matists like  Lord  Threpps;  but  I  fancy  I  know  all  about 
my  Lady.  Indeed,  I  was  brought  up  among  that  class. 
Oh  yes,  I  can  take  her  measure." 

"  Did  you  notice  how  she  jarred  upon  her  husband?  " 

"No." 

"  Ah,  those  unequal  marriages!  "  moralized  De  Morin; 
"they  always  end  miserably.  You  may  be  sure  she  fears 
him,  while  he  hates  and  despises  her." 

He  accompanied  his  words — spoken  so  significantly — 
with  a  particularly  hideous  little  smile.  Napoleon  com- 
menced to  suffer  in  real  earnest.  His  resolve  had  not 
been  lightly  taken:  he  would  need  all  his  endurance  to 
keep  it.  He  crossed  to  the  fireplace  and  flung  himself 
into  an  arm-chair. 

De  Morin  seemed  ruthless.  He  followed  his  master, 
and  stood  looking  down  into  the  moody  face,  just  now 
so  radiant.  It  was  a  failing  of  his,  this  insatiable  craving 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  415 

to  gloat  over  victory.  Yet  he  would  hardly  have  been 
so  unwise  thus  to  stir  sleeping  dogs  had  his  victory  been 
an  absolute  one.  Alas,  it  was  merely  apparent.  He 
held  in  his  hand  a  letter,  arrived  that  evening,  wherein 
Lady  Framlingham  begged  to  be  allowed  to  come  one 
day  late.  Her  husband  returned  that  night.  Accord- 
ingly they  could,  and  with  the  Emperor's  gracious  per- 
mission, would  present  themselves  at  Compiegne  at  noon 
on  Sunday.  De  Morin  had  no  alternative  but  to  send 
back  a  cordial  telegram,  neverthless  he  regarded  the 
matter  in  a  very  gloomy  light. 

"Our  numbers  are  not  complete,"  he  commenced 
softly. 

"  I  did  not  notice." 

"I  am  glad.     I  feared  his  Majesty  might." 

"Then  why  do  you  dispel  my  ignorance?"  was  the 
sullen  answer. 

"  Because  the  absent  guests  will  be  here  to-morrow." 

"Good  God,  man,"  his  Majesty  burst  out,  "am  I 
the  major-domo?  What  do  I  care  whom  you  ask,  and 
when  they  arrive?  I  have  n't  got  to  find  rooms  for  them, 
have  I?  I  am  not  paid  to  do  that,  am  I?  If  you  are  too 
old  to  do  your  work  yourself,  I  can  easily  find  some  one 
else  to  take  your  place." 

"The  Framlinghams — "  the  Chamberlain  said  pla- 
cidly; but  his  Majesty  broke  forth  again,  this  time  more 
gently: 

"Dear  old  friend,  do  first  be  seated.  You  will  send 
me  quite  mad  if  you  continue  thus  to  stand  over  me." 

"The  Framlinghams  were  invited  according  to  your 
instructions.  They  accepted  the  invitation." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  a  few  days  after  their  acceptance  Lady  Fram- 
lingham informed  me  that  her  husband  had  been  sud- 
denly summoned  to  London,  and  that  she  feared  in  con- 
sequence that  they  would  not  be  able  to  come." 

"  Why  am  I  worried  with  these  details?  Cannot  you 
see  that  they  do  not  interest  me?  "  It  was  almost  a  cry 
for  quarter. 

"  I  do  not  like  your  Majesty  to  suppose  that  I  would 
wilfully  disobey  your  orders." 


416  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Napoleon  sprang  from  his  chair. 

"I  know  that  you  are  one  of  the  most  zealous  of 
servants.  If  I  asked  you  to  invite  the  Framlinghams,  it 
was  for  a  reason  which  you  suspected  and  which  I  made 
no  effort  to  conceal.  That  reason  exists  no  longer.  De 
Morin,  De  Morin,  you  are  old  enough  to  be  my  father; 
you  placed  me  on  my  throne.  Can  you  not  be  my 
friend?  Listen:  I  did  love  this  girl — my  God,  I  love  her 
still.  But  I  see  quite  well  I  can  never  marry  her;  and, 
heaven  knows" — his  voice  trembled  with  emotion — "I 
would  not  harm  her  for  all  the  world.  I  have  resolved 
to  banish  her  from  my  mind.  Just  before  you  came  in 
I  had  been  looking — looking  out  upon  the  lovely  night. 
A  great  strength  seemed  to  fill  my  heart;  the  resolve 
came  with  it.  Why  do  you  come  probing  the  wound? 
You  know  well  enough  that  I  love  her;  you  know,  too, 
I  can  never  marry  her?  Why  do  you  come  probing  the 
wound? " 

If  the  Grand  Chamberlain  felt  no  pity,  at  least  he 
could  simulate  it.  His  face  became  puckered  with  an- 
guish. 

"Alas,"  he  cried,  almost  in  tears,  "your  Majesty 
makes  my  heart  bleed.  Be  strong,  sire;  be  strong;  and 
the  good  God  will  aid  you." 

He  remembered  the  letter  in  his  hand;  and  carelessly 
forgetting  that  as  yet  he  had  said  nothing  about  it,  he 
added:  "  I  will  send  a  message  forthwith  to  the  Avenue 
des  Villiers  to  let  them  know  that  the  party  is  breaking 
up  early  on  Monday." 

"  But  why?     If  they  are  not  coming — " 

De  Morin  saw  his  blunder,  but  he  could  not  remedy 
it.  Napoleon  saw  it  too. 

"  Then  they  are  coming?  "  he  asked  slowly. 

"  Yes.  Lord  Framlingham  returns  to  Paris  this  even- 
ing. Hen —  her  Ladyship  has  pleaded  permission  to  come 
to-morrow.  What  could  I  do?  " 

"Lord  and  Lady  Framlingham,"  Napoleon  recom- 
menced after  a  long  pause,  and  in  quite  altered  tones, 
"have  done  nothing  that  we  should  insult  them.  They 
must  come  to-morrow,  and  Mu —  their  daughter  with 
them." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  417 

"  And  your  unhappy  Majesty?  " 

"I  can  trust  myself,"  came  the  haughty  answer. 
"Besides — besides — "  said  the  voice,  slipping  from  dis- 
dain to  despair,  "besides,  she  is  going  away,  De  Morin; 
she  is  going  away  to  India,  and  I — I  shall  never  see  her 
any  more." 

And  without  more  ado  his  Majesty  burst  into  tears. 

"  My  poor  Louis,"  soothed  the  other,  "  how  you  re- 
mind me  of  your  poor,  dear  father." 


Chapter   IV 


As  a  matter  of  fact,  Lord  Framlingham  did  not  return 
home  that  evening.  It  made  no  difference;  Lady  Fram- 
lingham, her  daughter,  and  her  eldest  son  arrived  at 
Compiegne  on  the  Sunday  morning. 

The  days  which  followed  were  very  happy,  and  also 
very  miserable.  Very  miserable;  for  Napoleon  saw  little 
of  his  beloved.  Whatever  words  passed  between  them 
were  cold  and  formal:  he  could  not  gather  from  her 
manner  whether  she  knew  of  his  great  sacrifice. 

He  did,  though ;  and  the  thought  of  it  alone  sufficed 
to  comfort  him  those  interminable  mornings  when  his 
guests  had  scattered  through  the  forest  and  left  him  to 
the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  state  papers.  He  worked 
at  these  with  a  will,  stopping  merely  now  and  again  to 
snatch  five  minutes  at  the  window  or  to  admire  his  own 
heroism.  It  was  a  great  thing  to  be  so  brave.  It  prom- 
ised well  for  those  drear  days,  not  far  ahead,  when  hours 
at  his  window  could  not  yield  a  glimpse  of  her  sunshade, 
and  when  the  Gare  de  Lyon,  which  leadeth  to  Brindisi, 
would  be  the  sole  memento  of  her  left  in  all  his  Empire. 
Your  really  heroic  man  likes  an  audience.  It  is  pleasant 
to  have  folks  round  you  when  you  are  about  to  display 
moral  grandeur.  And  if  these  onlookers  should  happen 
to  include  the  young  lady  whose  existence  causes  the 
commotion,  so  much  the  better, — it  will  increase  the 
sense  of  satisfaction. 

Surely,  such  exquisite  misery  needed  no  recompense. 
Yet  full  recompense  was  vouchsafed  it,  and  every  even- 
ing. The  round  dinner-table  suddenly  betook  itself  to 
paradise;  the  drawing-rooms  became  Elysium.  Mesnil 
no  longer  led  the  conversation.  Lady  Threpps  found 
that  she  had  lost  a  listener,  while  Napoleon  himself  for- 
418 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  419 

got  where  he  had  been  during  the  battle  of  Manheulles. 
My  word,  how  he  talked!  How  he  basked  in  the  Pres- 
ence! that  silent,  silent  Presence  which  he  knew  heard 
all  he  said. 

And  afterwards,  in  the  drawing-room,  he  would  be 
permitted  the  felicity  of  half  a  dozen  words. 

"  Mademoiselle  enjoys  her  visit  to  Compiegne?  " 

"Yes,  sire.  No  one  could  fail  to  do  so.  It  is  so 
beautiful." 

"  Mademoiselle  has  visited  Pierrefonds?  " 

"We  went  there  yesterday,  my  brother  and  I." 

Never  more  than  this;  but  it  always  sent  him  away 
with  joy  at  his  heart,  resolved  to  carry  out  the  battle  to 
the  bitter  end. 

On  Tuesday  night,  however,  his  Majesty  went  a  step 
further:  a  host  is  bound  to  do  something  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  his  guests. 

Muriel  was  seated  beside  her  mother.  The  Em- 
peror stood  a  few  yards  off,  talking  with  the  English 
Ambassador.  Suddenly  he  turned  to  Lady  Framling- 
ham. 

"  His  Lordship  is  anxious  to  see  Pierrefonds.  I  have 
offered  to  take  him  there  to-morrow  afternoon.  I  tell 
him  that  Madame  would  be  a  far  better  guide." 

"Sire,  you  flatter  me." 

"Will  you  join  our  excursion?  Lady  Threpps  is 
coming,  and  the  Chamberlain  shall  take  charge  of  us  and 
show  us  all  there  is  to  be  seen." 

"Delighted,  I  am  sure.  I  love  Pierrefonds;  it  is 
many  years  since  I  was  there." 

"And — and  Mademoiselle?" 

"I  shall  be  very  glad,"  murmured  Mademoiselle. 

"  I  will  go  and  consult  the  Grand  Chamberlain." 

"  De  Morin,"  he  said,  "  I  am  arranging  a  little  excur- 
sion to  Pierrefonds  for  to-morrow  afternoon.  Will  you 
join?  " 

"I  shall  have  to  take  your  Majesty's  place,"  the 
Count  replied. 

Napoleon  flushed.      "What  do  you  mean?  " 

"You  forget  you  have  given  M.  Prehlen  an  appoint- 
ment at  three." 


420  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"He  is  staying  the  night.  We  can  postpone  our 
interview  until  after  dinner." 

"Impossible.  Carache  is  to  be  present.  He  will  be 
here  at  two.  His  daughter's  serious  condition  makes  it 
imperative  that  the  Premier  should  return  to  Paris  with 
the  least  possible  delay." 

"We  must  do  without  Carache." 

"Simply  to  visit  Pierrefonds!  "      Napoleon  winced. 

"I  suppose  I  must  submit,"  he  grumbled. 

"  Make  your  mind  quite  easy.  I  will  do  all  to  make 
the  excursion  a  success." 

Monsieur  Prehlen  and  the  Prime  Minister  appeared 
punctual  to  their  appointed  time.  They  were  over- 
whelmed with  grief  when  they  learned  how  they  had 
interfered  with  the  Emperor's  happiness.  He  begged 
them  not  to  mention  it.  He  had  become  reconciled  since 
last  night.  There  is  such  dignity  in  absence.  She  would 
think  of  him  hard  at  work  in  his  solitary  grandeur.  That 
is,  provided  the  party  were  a  dull  one.  It  promised  well 
in  that  respect. 

"I  feared  something  of  the  sort,"  persisted  Prehlen, 
who  never  could  have  enough  of  apologizing;  "we  met 
them  starting,  just  as  we  entered  the  Palace.  That  idle 
young  dog  of  a  Fersen  fastened  himself  onto  them  with- 
out an  instant's  hesitation." 

"To  business,  gentlemen,"  Napoleon  cried  sharply. 
The  party  might  not  be  a  dull  one  after  all. 

The  Russian  Ambassador  pulled  a  bundle  of  papers 
from  his  breast  pocket  and  laid  them  on  the  table.  Ca- 
rache sat  opposite  him.  He  watched  the  other  intently; 
but,  to  do  him  justice,  his  mind  would  keep  wandering 
to  that  bedroom  in  the  Rue  de  Berlin,  where  his  little 
girl  lay  dying — stretched  upon  his  own  luxurious  bed, 
the  sunbeams  round  her.  At  least,  that  was  how  she  lay 
two  hours  back;  and  when  he  thought  that  he  might 
return  to  find  the  sunbeams  faded,  he  could  hardly  keep 
the  tears  from  his  eyes. 

Napoleon,  at  the  head  of  the  table,  enjoyed  a  splendid 
view.  Each  window  formed  a  sort  of  aureole  for  either 
of  his  companions.  With  his  eyes  on  Prehlen,  he  could 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  421 

watch  the  terrace  and  the  bowered  walk,  as  it  swung 
round  to  the  chapel  gate  and  the  Soissons  road.  He 
had  only  to  survey  his  Premier  to  see  the  terrace  again, 
the  park,  and  the  forest  beyond.  In  this  favourable  posi- 
tion he  was  hardly  more  attentive  than  Carache. 

To  get  back  to  Prehlen.  The  Ambassador  laid  his 
documents  upon  the  table.  He  cleared  his  throat,  patted 
his  beard,  the  while  looking  from  one  to  the  other  of  his 
adversaries  with  great  affection. 

His  first  words  came  in  a  whisper. 

"  I  am  authorized  to  make  your  Majesty  very  impor- 
tant proposals.  They  are  contained  in  these  letters, 
which  I  received  from  my  master  yesterday  morning." 

Napoleon  looked  idly  at  the  bundle  on  the  table;  the 
Premier  looked  idly  at  the  bundle  on  the  table;  then  both 
exclaimed  "Ah"  almost  simultaneously,  and  both  re- 
lapsed into  silence. 

"  But  before  anything  else — we  cannot  quite  think  we 
were  fairly  dealt  with  in  the  late  unhappy  war." 

"You  surprise  me,"  said  Carache. 

"No,  we  cannot  quite  think  it.  We  were  to  have 
Prussian  Poland,"  and  he  gazed  more  in  sorrow  than  in 
anger  at  Napoleon,  who  murmured,  "Prussian  Poland — 
Prussian  Poland,"  as  though  he  were  taking  a  survey  of 
the  park  to  find  it. 

"  Prussian  Poland  was  the  price  of  our  defensive  alli- 
ance—  of  our  neutrality  even.  Where  is  Prussian 
Poland?" 

"Prussian  Poland,"  cried  Carache,  rousing  himself 
from  a  reverie  that  had  been  on  the  verge  of  tears,  "is 
east  of  Brandenburg  and  northeast  of  Silesia.  That  is 
all  I  can  tell  you  as  to  its  position." 

Prehlen  had  hardly  come  prepared  for  a  conference  of 
this  description.  He  continued  with  additional  gravity: 

"  My  government,  however,  is  content  to  overlook 
this  act — this  trifling  omission.  They  are  willing  to 
believe  that  it  was  due,  not  so  much  to  want  of  faith  as  to 
dire  necessity.  They  recognize  that  you  would  have 
found  it  difficult  to  have  continued  the  war." 

"They  must  kindly  not  recognize  anything  of  the 
sort,"  rapped  out  Carache. 


422  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"So  I  am  instructed  to  declare  the  matter  satisfac- 
torily closed.  Here,"  lifting  his  documents,  "  I  come 
to  the  proposals." 

Napoleon  saw  a  chance  of  reaching  Pierrefonds. 

"Stop,  dear  Monsieur.  Carache,  ought  not  the 
Foreign  Minister  to  be  present? " 

"I  am  competent  to  take  his  place." 

"  Proceed,"  with  a  sigh  to  his  Excellency. 

"  Two  proposals.  The  first  is  an  alliance,  offensive 
as  well  as  defensive,  against  England." 

"The  second?  " 

"A  marriage  between  his  Majesty  and  the  Princess 
Catharine,  elder  daughter  of  the  Grand  Duke  Peter. 
She  is  very  beautiful." 

The  forceps  were  well  in  by  now. 

"She  is  very  beautiful,"  repeated  Prehlen;  "her 
face  resembles  a  dream." 

"My  master  feels  the  honour  acutely,"  Carache  in- 
terposed with  greater  literalness  than  he  was  aware  of. 
"  Did  you  say  that  the  alliance  was  to  be  aggressive?  " 

"  Most  certainly." 

"  That  means  war?  " 

"To  the  death." 

"How  terrible!  "  muttered  the  Premier,  now  that  his 
little  girl  lay  dying. 

"And  what  do  we  take?  "  he  added  presently. 

"Anything  you  can  conquer,  except  India." 

"  Of  course  you  take  that?  " 

"We  take  that." 

"  Never!  "  shouted  Napoleon;  "  never,  while  I  am  on 
the  throne!  "  He  was  thinking  of  Tilbury  and  Liverpool 
Street  and  the  Albert  Docks,  to  him  so  often  the  way  of 
sorrows. 

"She  is  very  beautiful,"  Prehlen  murmured,  mistak- 
ing the  reasons  for  this  vehemence. 

"  My  master  means  that  the  partition  is  an  unjust 
one." 

"India  is  big,"  the  Ambassador  allowed. 

"  Very  big.  We  ought  at  least  to  have  Assam  and 
Bengal.  These  two  provinces,  in  addition  to  Burmah, 
would  only  be  a  fair  share." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  423 

"  I  will  make  a  note  of  it,"  and  he  did  so.  "I  fear, 
however,  that  my  government  will  prove  adamant.  They 
are  determined  to  be  India." 

He  sat  for  a  few  minutes  wrapped  in  thought.  "  Won't 
you  take  an  equivalent?  "  he  asked. 

' '  Canada  —  the  Mauritius  —  Malta  —  Gibraltar  —  the 
Gold  Coast?  there  they  are  for  you  to  choose." 

"We  will  take  their  rights  in  Africa  and  Canada. 
These  will  balance  India.  Now  we  can  start  fair." 

"I  forgot.  Canada,  I  observe,  goes  to  Venezuela: 
it 's  something  to  do  with  the  Monroe  Doctrine,  whatever 
that  may  mean.  Still,  you  can  have  anything  else. 
There  is  a  large  choice." 

"Your  government  is  very  obliging.  It  does  not 
leave  many  points  open  for  adjustment." 

"  Our  way,  dear  Monsieur.  We  find  we  save  so  much 
time." 

"  And  it  succeeds?  " 

"Certainly,  when  the  other  high  contracting  party 
keeps  faith  with  us." 

"  Monsieur  refers  to  Prussian  Poland." 

"  Monsieur  is  wrong.      I  was  thinking  of — " 

Napoleon  made  so  bold  at  this  point  as  to  attempt 
a  little  sarcasm. 

"What  about  England?  " 

"Your  keenness  has  touched  upon  the  most  difficult 
point.  My  government  suggests — mind,  merely  a  sug- 
gestion— a  joint  occupation.  With  that  working  properly, 
we  could  use  the  place  as  a  species  of  Siberia  or  New 
Caledonia — for  convicts,  you  know,  and  political  exiles, 
and  Jews.  They  like  Jews  in  England.  We  are  prepared 
to  entertain  alternative  proposals." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  Napoleon  retorted.  "Your 
Excellency  has  forgotten  one  thing." 

"Yes?  "  cried  Prehlen,  pencil  in  hand. 

"  The  English  people !  What  is  to  be  done  with  them? 
How  are  we  to  partition  their  navy  and  their  army?  " 

These  words  were  uttered  with  great  fire.  They  re- 
minded Prehlen  of  the  Porte  St.  Martin.  He  had  ex- 
pected English  proclivities.  The  negotiations  were 
entering  upon  a  critical  phase:  he  felt  quite  delighted. 


424  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

So  he  returned  to  the  Princess.  "  She  is  very  beauti- 
ful," said  he,  fumbling  among  his  letters:  "ah,  here  is 
her  portrait." 

Napoleon  gazed  at  her  in  silence.  The  sacrifice 
would  be  hard  indeed;  for  the  photograph  disclosed  a 
typical  specimen  of  the  later  Muscovite,  with  a  face 
almost  as  agressive  as  the  alliance.  He  gave  it  back, 
sighing  ambiguously,  and  his  eyes  wandering  away 
towards  the  forest  heights  about  Pierrefond. 

There  was  indeed  a  dignity  in  absence — in  Muriel's 
absence,  that  is.  The  void  she  left  seemed  to  reproach 
him  for  his  cowardice. 

"Is  the  Princess  a  sine  qud  nott?"  he  asked  wearily. 

"  My  master  means,  is  the  offensive  alliance  an  indis- 
pensable preliminary  to  the  marriage?" 

"Yes,"  said  Napoleon,  still  weary,  "yes,  that  is  what 
I  mean." 

"I  fear  so.  The  war  between  you  two  powers  must 
come  sooner  or  later.  We  are  prepared  to  help  you  now, 
when  your  people  is  animated  with  one  spirit.  Later  on, 
we  may  not  see  the  matter  in  the  same  light." 

The  Premier  urged  that  he  saw  no  reason  for  war  with 
England,  either  sooner  or  later.  They  had  Lower  Alsace. 
They  required  no  farther  extension  of  territory;  and 
certainly  not  of  their  colonial  empire. 

"  Besides,"  he  wound  up,  "  England  jointly  occupied, 
and  filled  with  convicts  and  exiles,  does  not  hold  out  a 
very  alluring  prospect  for  us,  her  neighbour." 

"  You  will  soon  get  accustomed." 

Napoleon  took  up  the  thread. 

"  England  might  have  made  herself  very  nasty  during 
the  late  war.  Instead,  she  maintained  a  strict  neutrality. 
Her  inhabitants  raised  subscriptions;  they  sent  doctors 
and  nurses  to  tend  our  wounded.  Is  this  the  way  " — 
pointing  disdainfully  at  Prehlen's  documents — "we 
ought  to  show  our  gratitude?  " 

The  other's  contempt  matched  his  own. 

"  Diplomacy  is  entering  a  new  phase, "  he  sneered,  "if 
the  blunders  of  a  state  are  to  be  used  in  her  favour." 

Napoleon  rose  from  his  chair.  He  had  assumed  an 
air  of  sublime  decision. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  425 

"  If  your  proposals  included  a  defensive  alliance  that 
was  stringently  non-agressive,  I  would  gladly  accept. 
As  you  rightly  remark,  the  young  lady  is  indeed  beauti- 
ful. This  offer  of  her  hand  fills  me  with  exquisite  mis- 
ery " — which  was  true  enough — "seeing  that  the  accom- 
panying terms  are  quite  impossible.  No,  Monsieur, 
Russia  must  look  elsewhere  for  her  ally.  England  has 
been  an  asylum  for  me,  as  well  as  for  many  of  my  race. 
She  shall  never  fight  with  France  while  I  am  Emperor. 
Nay,  if  she  comes  to  me  in  her  need — " 

Carache  coughed. 

"  My  master  sees  no  advantage  for  France  in  an  Eng- 
lish war.  If  your  government  chooses  to  allow  the  mar- 
riage on  the  terms  stated  by  his  Majesty,  well  and 
good." 

Napoleon  employed  this  digression  to  ring  the  bell. 

"Take  time,"  cried  the  Ambassador.  "  I  do  n't  expect 
to  conclude  weighty  business  at  a  single  sitting.  Grant 
me  a  second  interview — say,  a  week  hence." 

"It  is  always  a  pleasure  to  meet  your  Excellency. 
But  I  fear  we  might  meet  every  day  for  a  whole  year 
without  shaking  my  resolve. " 

"To-day  week,  at  the  same  hour?"  and  Prehlen 
poised  his  pencil. 

"If  you  like,"  smiled  Majesty.  "I  shall  be  back  in 
Paris  by  then. " 

"  Good.     Three,  Wednesday  next,  at  the  Elyse"e." 

"  Meanwhile,  your  Excellency  can  mention  my  mas- 
ter's alternative  to  your  government." 

"  I  fear  it  will  be  useless.  India  has  suffered  under  a 
grinding  despotism  long  enough.  The  time  has  come 
when  she  must  be  free." 

"  Of  course  you  will  free  her?  " 

"Certainly." 

"  As  you  have  freed  Finland?  " 

"As  we  have  freed  Finland  " 

"  Or  as  you  would  like  to  free  Armenia?  " 

"  Precisely.  Monsieur  forgets  that  we  are  Christians. 
It  is  only  poor  Mahomet  who  handicaps  his  followers. 
Russia  is  the  champion  of  the  oppressed  over  all  the 
world.  My  countrymen  in  Norway  feel  it,  you  may  be 


426  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

sure.  Only  the  other  day,  my  maiden  aunt  who  now 
resides  in  Christiania  assured  me  that  the  place  was  pray- 
ing aloud  for  Russia  to  come  and  annex  it." 

"The  lady  may  be  prejudiced." 

"She  is.     She  glories  in  it." 

"  Ah,  here  is  Godefroy.  He  will  show  you  your 
room.  Your  Excellency  stays  the  night?  " 

"With  pleasure,  sire." 

"Good.     Godefroy,  conduct  Monsieur. " 

The  door  closed  upon  them.  Napoleon  turned  to 
Carache,  who — poor  fellow — turned  to  his  watch. 

"  The  poor  little  one  is  very  ill?  "  the  Emperor  asked, 
full  of  sympathy  that  came  from  his  late  sight  of  the 
Princess. 

"Very  ill,"  faltered  Carache. 

"You  would  like  to  be  off  at  once." 

"Alas,  there  is  no  train." 

"A  special?     I  will  send  at  once  to  order  one. 

Carache  shook  his  head.  "  A  few  hours  can  make  no 
difference.  And  —  sire  —  I  am  —  a  —  coward;  I  would 
rather  not  see  the — little  one — suffer,"  and  now  the  tears 
flowed  fast. 

Napoleon  turned  away,  his  own  eyes  bedimmed  with 
tears.  Outside,  the  last  rays  of  autumn  sunlight  red- 
dened the  landscape,  flinging  a  broad  path  of  scarlet 
across  the  terrace.  And  the  Emperor,  his  heart  full  of 
sorrow  for  the  man  beside  him,  beheld  something  which 
filled  him  with  far  greater  sorrow  for  himself. 

There,  in  an  avenue  that  opened  out  immediately  be- 
neath his  window,  two  figures  could  be  seen  slowly 
approaching.  They  were  moving  directly  towards  him, 
so  that,  from  the  first,  it  was  possible  to  recognize  them. 
They  did  not  notice  him.  For  the  girl — and  the  very 
sight  of  her  seemed  to  stop  the  current  of  his  blood — 
had  her  eyes  fixed  obstinately  upon  the  ground,  while 
Nicholas  Fersen,  her  companion,  kept  his  as  obstinately 
upon  her  face. 

It  was  clear  he  was  speaking  to  her  in  earnest  tones. 
Clear,  also,  that  he  waited  often  for  some  reply, — a  reply 
which  never  came.  And  Napoleon  watched  them.  He 
thought  no  more  of  poor  Carache.  He  forgot  his  own 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  427 

great  resolution.  He  had  eyes  and  brain  alone  for  the 
darkened  figures  that  came  forward  so  slowly  from  the 
background  of  reddened  trees,  the  dying  leaves  about 
their  feet.  What  could  it  be  that  Fersen  kept  repeating 
with  so  much  vehemence?  Suddenly  the  young  fellow 
stopped  dead,  and  stretched  forth  both  hands  with  an 
imploring  gesture.  Still  no  reply. 

The  great  widespread  palms  dropped  abruptly;  an 
angry  frown  came  over  the  pleasant  face.  And  angry 
words  must  have  fallen  from  the  pleasant  mouth ;  for, 
at  the  same  instant,  the  girl  raised  her  head  and  blazed 
forth  an  answer  which  was  apparently  not  the  one  re- 
quired. 

Then  both  walked  on  in  silence. 

They  disappeared  in  the  dip  of  the  gravel  walk. 
When  they  returned  to  view,  slowly  ascending  the  steps 
that  led  on  to  the  terrace,  the  man  was  once  more 
all  supplication,  the  girl  all  silence.  But  her  eyes  were 
no  longer  cast  upon  the  ground,  and  they  still  bore  in 
them  some  trace  of  her  recent  anger.  The  two  ap- 
proached so  close  beneath  his  window  that  Napoleon 
might  have  called  to  them  without  raising  his  voice 
above  a  whisper.  He  flattened  himself  against  a  curtain, 
turning  as  he  did  so.  Carache  had  stolen  quietly  away. 

Once  at  the  top,  the  girl  faced  about.  Obviously  she 
had  had  enough  of  this  altercation:  she  meant  to  stay 
where  she  was,  until  her  relations  joined  her.  Count 
Fersen  turned  too;  Napoleon  stepped  forth  from  his  hid- 
ing-place among  the  draperies. 

How  he  wished  that  he  could  hear  what  the  Russian 
was  saying.  But  he  had  seen  enough  to  cause  him  in- 
tense disquiet;  to  convince  him  of  the  good  ground  for 
his  jealousy  of  Count  Fersen.  Muriel — fancy  free  in 
all  his  dreams  of  her,  careless  to  boyishness,  quite 
ignorant  of  love — had,  at  any  rate,  got  far  enough  in 
worldly  ways  to  have  this  sort  of  scene  with  a  young, 
and  probably  loose,  attache"  on  the  slopes  of  a  semi- 
public  terrace. 

Of  what  sort  were  the  words  which  must  have  gone 
before  those  passionate  entreaties,  that  scornful  silence? 
Napoleon  shuddered.  What  was  the  meaning  of  the 


428  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

sudden  blaze?  His  own  deep  passion  at  once  imagined 
the  worst.  And  a  great  desire  seized  him  to  have  her 
for  his  own, — if  damaged,  then  damaged,  at  whatever 
sacrifice,  at  whatever  cost  to  either,  in  whatever  way 
(provided  it  was  also  the  quickest),  and  having  her,  to 
keep  her  by  his  side  for  evermore.  Meanwhile,  he 
pressed  closer  against  the  window. 

"Count  Fersen!  Count  Fersen!  Count  Fersen!" 
cried  Prehlen  from  an  upper  room.  "Count  Fersen, 
you  must  be  good  enough  to  come  at  once.  I  have  in- 
stant need  of  you." 

The  young  fellow  looked  up  at  the  region  of  the 
invisible  voice,  then  turned  back  to  his  companion, 
in  some  embarrassment.  Muriel  made  him  a  not  over- 
gentle  sign  that  he  might  depart,  resuming  at  once  her 
attitude  of  motionless  expectancy. 

It  was  more  than  mortal  flesh  could  stand.  The  Em- 
peror sprang  into  and  out  of  his  room,  seizing  his  hat  as 
he  went.  His  quivering  body  stumbled  at  every  step. 
He  made  for  the  private  door  which  led  from  the  Council 
chamber  into  the  terrace;  he  could  scarcely  open  it. 

The  noise  recalled  Muriel  from  her  reverie.  She 
turned.  The  Emperor  was  sauntering  leisurely  towards 
her,  a  charming  smile  upon  his  face. 


Chapter  V 


"  Mademoiselle  has  never  walked  from  Pierrefonds?" 

"  It  is  not  far.     We  left  at  two." 

"It  must  be  over  ten  miles.  And  the  others,  are 
they  walking?  " 

"Some  of  them.  They  had  not  started  when  we — 
when  I  left." 

"Every  one  is  not  so  energetic.  Tell  me,  were  you 
not  afraid  to  come  through  the  forest  without  an  escort? 
The  days  are  drawing  in." 

"Oh,  no,  sire,"  she  answered  carelessly,  "I  am  used 
to  going  about  alone  at  any  hour.  I  do  it  in  England, 
and  at  Meaux  as  well." 

"Meaux,"he  exclaimed  with  plaintive  gaiety,  "dear, 
dear  Meaux! — those  sw — ahem,  those  bright  summer 
days  have  fled  forever.  How  I  detest  the  autumn. " 

"You  should  not  say  so.  This  autumn  must  be  a 
very  happy  one  for  you.  And  Compiegne  is  very  beau- 
tiful." 

He  welcomed  the  reproof.  If  only  he  might  believe 
that  she  thought  of  him  even  a  little.  But,  more  than 
all,  he  wanted  her  to  fall  back  into  that  careless  manner 
which  had  rendered  her  so  adorable  on  the  occasion  of 
their  earlier  meetings.  Before  long  the  worship  of  his 
eyes  and  of  his  softened  voice  made  it  that  she  did  re- 
sume the  haphazard,  irreverent  treatment  of  his  person, 
which  was  her  greatest  charm.  Perhaps  she  used  this 
unconsciously  as  a  weapon  of  defence. 

"Mademoiselle  speaks  truly:  Compiegne  is  very 
beautiful.  May  I  not  show  her  some  of  its  features?  " 
he  waved  a  hand  over  the  park  beneath  them. 

She  hesitated.      "  But  the  others?  " 

"They  cannot  be  here  yet.  And — and  we  will  not 
429 


430  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

stray  beyond  the  boundary" ;  so  she  consented.  Napo- 
leon marked  her  reluctance.  He  knew  that  they  both 
were  thinking  of  the  upper  windows. 

They  left  the  terrace,  proceeding  along  the  avenue 
which  she  had  lately  traversed  with  Fersen.  He  felt  her 
presence  strong  upon  him;  and  for  a  while  he  could  not 
speak.  The  silence  grew. 

"You  know  this  path,"  he  faltered;  he  was  still 
thinking  of  the  upper  windows. 

"Yes.  Nay,  but  I  prefer  to  keep  to  it.  The  others 
are  sure  to  come  this  way." 

He  sighed.  "  Then  Mademoiselle  wants  them  to  find 
us?" 

"Surely,"  she  laughed. 

"  Does  not  this  remind  you  a  little  of  Meaux?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  There  is  no  forest  at  Meaux;  no 
chateau,  no  park.  I  cannot  see  the  faintest  resem- 
blance." 

"  They  tell  me  that  you  are  going  to  India?  "  he  re- 
commenced questioning. 

"Who  told  you?  " 

"Lady  Threpps." 

"  Lady  Threpps!  "  with  huge  contempt.  "  I  am  sur- 
prised you  listen  to  her — no,  I  am  not  surprised." 

"  But  there  is  some  truth  in  the  rumour?  "  he  persisted. 

"  I  cannot  say." 

"  Why  is  Lord  Rochberie  resigning?  " 

"  His  wife  cannot  stand  the  climate." 

"The  Vicereine  is  almost  as  important  as  the  Vice- 
roy? ' 

"  Exactly  " — and  Muriel,  always  in  an  enchanted 
castle,  despite  her  brusqueries,  beheld  visions  of  a  crown 
imperial,  far  more  splendid  than  the  crown  viceregal 
coming  to  her  mother. 

"And  you — would  you  like  to  go  to  India?  " 

"  It  will  be  change." 

His  manner  had  altered  so  completely  during  the 
last  few  minutes,  passing  altogether  from  cheerful  com- 
monplace to  plaintive  innuendo  begun  in  fear  and 
trembling,  and  never  carried  through,  that  she  felt  some 
sort  of  crisis  was  at  hand.  Her  nerves  were  made  of 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  431 

tougher  fibre.  She  moved  forward  quite  coolly.  She 
answered  his  questions,  and  beyond  that  did  n't  help  him 
an  inch  along  his  road.  But  she  never  lost  sight  of  the 
crown  imperial. 

Poor  Napoleon!  In  a  few  weeks  she  would  be  gone, 
and  his  chance  with  her. 

"  Do  you  really  think  you  would  like  India?"  he  re- 
peated. 

"  Oh,  it  is  all  the  same  to  me,  where  I  am.  Some 
parts  of  the  country  are  beautiful  enough." 

Not  more  beautiful  than  France." 
'Why  should  I  trouble  to  make  the  comparison?  " 
But — but — Mademoiselle!  " 
'  But  what,  Monsieur?     I  am  English." 
'  I  know,  I  know,"  he  groaned.      "  Come,"  reviving 
somewhat,  "let  us  walk  through  the  Berceau.   You  must 
see    it:     it    was    my    great-grandfather's    gift    to    the 
place." 

"  Indeed.  It  is  very  dark — no,  I  hardly  think  I  care 
to  enter." 

"  Mademoiselle  is  never  afraid.  There  are  lights  far- 
ther along.  Take  my  arm." 

She  suffered  herself  to  be  persuaded.  Her  arm  in 
his,  she  felt  him  trembling;  and  she  commenced  to 
wonder  what  sort  of  man  he  might  be.  Yet,  curiously 
enough,  she  felt  no  surprise  at  his  next  question. 

"By  the  way,"  he  asked  hurriedly,  as  if  he  had  for- 
gotten, "  did  Mademoiselle  say  that  she  walked  from 
Pierrefond  without  an  escort?  " 

"No." 

"  No,  of  course, — now  I  recollect.  Lord  Mendril  was 
with  her." 

"  I  never  said  so." 

"Indeed.  Who — who  was  it  you  said?  "  He  looked 
quite  pained  at  having  forgotten. 

"  It  cannot  interest  you." 

"  I  know,  I  know;  but  you  might  humour  me." 

"No  one  more  important  than  Count  Fersen,"  she 
said  with  a  fine  show  of  unconcern. 

"  Count  Fersen?     Am  I  acquainted  with  him?  " 

"I  think  so." 


432  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

No,  really — " 

'  Oh,  yes,  you  are,"  she  laughed. 

'  Quite  right.     He  is  an  attach^  at  the  Russian  Em- 
bassy.    Your  brother  was  with  you,  naturally?  " 
No.     We  came  alone. " 
You  and  Count  Fersen?  " 

'Why  not?" 

How  foolish  of  me.     You  are  old  friends." 
We  have  known  him  a  long  time." 

'  Pray  pardon  me.     As  you  said  just  now,  it  is  no  busi- 
ness of  mine." 

For  the  moment  she  looked  as  though  she  did  not 
quite  concur  in  this  last  statement. 

"  Lady  Muriel,"  he  began  earnestly, — and  speaking 
her  name  thus  for  the  first  time  in  her  presence,  his 
voice  quivered, — "  Lady  Muriel,  you  must  forgive  me  if 
I  have  gone  too  far.  The  truth  is,  my  whole  life  has 
been  spent  in  England.  My  preferences  are  altogether 
English,  and — and  you  and  your  good  relatives  are  the 
only  English  people  with  whom  I  come  in  contact.  I 
value  the  privilege  highly;  and  it  may  be  that  I  venture 
to  interest  myself  in  your  affairs  more  than  a  stranger 
has  any  right  to  do.  You  are  my  neighbours  at  Meaux 
— Meaux,  in  which  my  heart  delights,  where  I  can  fling 
aside  the  trappings  of  state  and  be  at  peace.  You  your- 
self, Mademoiselle,  will  always  have  around  you  in  my 
eyes — whether  you  like  it  or  not — the  calm  of  that  first 
evening  when  we  met  by  the  river-side.  Do  not  blame 
me,  blame  rather  the  accident  which  led  you  thither; 
for  the  softness  of  that  night  will  henceforth  and  forever 
colour  every  thing  and  every  one  whom  chance  then  led  in 
my  way.  It  would  have  been  the  same  had  I  found — 
say,  Madame  Verre  instead  of  you.  The  mysterious 
fascinations  of  that  night,  fitting,  as  it  did,  my  soul  that 
yearned  for  rest,  would  have  enveloped  her  no  whit 
differently."  He  did  not  say  in  what. 

"  That  is  my  explanation  for  my  apparent  rudeness 
in  questioning  you  so  persistently.  I  will  be  quite  frank 
with  you.  I  was  overjoyed  when  I  learnt  that  you  had 
come  to  Paris.  And  I  shall  be  sincerely  grieved  if  your 
father's  good  fortune  carries  you  off  to  India.  Believe 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  433 

me,  my  dear  young  lady,  provided  only  that  the  Earl  and 
Countess  are  equally  complaisant,  I  never  intend  to  let 
the  exigencies  of  state  " — he  was  thinking  of  Prehlen — 
"come  between  our  friendship.  And  when  they  finally 
depart,  and  the  time  comes  for  you  to  marry,  and  neither 
you  nor  they  visit  France  any  more,  I  shall  cherish  the 
memory  of  this  intimacy  as  one  of  the  brightest  episodes 
of  my  reign." 

He  ceased,  and  gazed  at  her,  a  heavenly  smile  suffus- 
ing his  countenance.  His  words  were  so  high-souled, 
that  he  condoned  their  having  carried  him  somewhat 
further  than  he  had  originally  intended. 

Muriel's  first  feeling  was  one  of  consternation.  She 
said  never  a  word  in  reply  to  his  drawn-out  eloquence. 
Her  silence  surprised  him. 

Her  coldness,  when  she  did  speak,  startled  him  even 
more. 

"We  ought  to  be  returning,"  she  said. 

"  The  house  is  straight  ahead." 

"I  prefer  to  go  back  by  the  way  I  came." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Mademoiselle  may  suit 
herself.  It  is  not  for  me  to  object  to  any  extension  of 
our  walk."  Relenting  a  minute  later,  he  muttered 
softly: 

"  So  you  see  that  is  why  I  do  not  want  you  to  go  to 
India." 

"Whether  we  go  or  not,  we  shall  leave  France  in 
January." 

"Ah,  you  will  be  back  at  Meaux  in  the  summer." 

"  Indeed  not.  We  do  not  come  every  year.  If  you 
want  to  renew  your — your  intimacy  with  my  father  and 
mother,  you  will  have  to  come  to  Tipton,"  and  she  in- 
dulged in  a  smile  which  he  would  have  rather  been  with- 
out. "  The  Verres  are  coming  next  summer,  and  pos- 
sibly Lord  and  Lady  Threpps. " 

"  And  Count  Fersen?  " 

"  Very  likely." 

They  were  on  the  threshold  of  the  covered  walk. 
Napoleon  halted.  He  turned  full  upon  her,  so  that  she, 
too,  was  forced  to  stop. 

"Be  warned  by  me,"  he  cried,  "be  warned  by  me, 


434  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

dear  Mademoiselle.     I  am  older  than  you  are.     And  the 
Emperor's  eyes  see  far." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  I  should  do  wrong  not  to  make  my  meaning  plain." 

"  Then  make  it  plain." 

"  lam  bound  to  learn  things  in  connexion  with  those 
who  move  about  the  court.  I  would  much  rather  not 
retail  them.  If  I  do  so,  it  is  for  your  sake  alone,  dear 
Mademoiselle." 

"Well?" 

"  Simply  this.  Count  Fersen  is  a  libertine  and  a 
drunkard," — all  this  was  said  with  feverish  haste , —  "he 
is  not  fit  to  be  your  husband;  he  is  not  fit  even  to  come 
in  contact  with  you." 

"And  yet  you  call  yourself  a   gentleman!  " 

She  might  have  struck  him.  The  marks  of  the  blow 
were  upon  his  face. 

"  Mademoiselle  Leduc — "  he  commenced,  apologeti- 
cally, but  she  would  not  hear  him  out. 

"Oh,  Muriel,"  he  began  again,  "  have  pity  on  me. 
If  I  have  placed  myself  in  a  contemptible  position,  it  is 
for  your  sake  alone.  Cannot  you  see  as  much?  " 

"I  cannot  see  by  what  right  you  blacken  Count 
Fersen's  character.  He  has  done  you  no  harm.  If  I 
choose  to  walk  with  him,  that  is  my  business." 

"  And  not  mine?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  And  this  after  what  I  have  said  to  you!  " 
He  fell  to   one  side.       They  resumed   their  path  in 
silence.     When  Muriel  spoke  again,  she  had  got  back  her 
ordinary  composure. 

"I  presume  you  said  what  you  did  because  of  that 
night  at  Meaux?  " 

"What  is  the  use  of  discussing  the  matter  further?  " 
came  the  sullen  answer. 

My  Lady  administered  another  sharp  reproof. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  "  that  your  Majesty  is 
behaving  very  badly."  Her  anger  rose,  the  further  she 
proceeded.  "  You  are  putting  me  in  a  ridiculous  posi- 
tion, and  for  no  better  reason  than  that  we  are  English, 
and  your  neighbours  at  Meaux,  and  because  you  hap- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  435 

pened  to  meet  me  one  night  by  chance  beside  the  river. 
I  wish  to  heaven  you  had  met  Madame  Verre.  It  may 
be  very  true,  all  you  have  said  to  me  about  your  English 
leanings  and  the  rest  of  it;  but  nevertheless  I  do  not  see 
why  you  should  bring  me  down  to  this  deserted  arbour 
in  order  to  make  me  your  confidante  and  abuse  my 
friends.  You  ought  not  to  have  done  it.  You  ought 
not  to  ask  us  to  the  Elyse"e  in  the  way  you  do.  You 
ought  not  to  have  invited  us  to  Compiegne,  unless  — 
unless — "and  though  she  was  not  overwhelmed  with 
confusion,  she  could  not  finish  her  sentence. 

He  listened,  open-mouthed.  And  directly  he  dis- 
covered that  she  had  come  to  a  full  stop,  he  confessed 
his  error  and  prayed  to  be  forgiven. 

"Oh,"  said  she,  brushing  aside  her  anger  with  a 
cheerless  laugh,  "the  matter  is  not  so  serious  as  all  that. 
We  will  both  try  and  forget  what  has  happened." 

His  face  was  white  and  drawn. 

"  We  will  forget,"  he  murmured  after  her. 

"  And  you  will  consider  me  a  little,  before  you," — she 
looked  about  for  a  word, — "before  you  pursue  us  with 
your  friendship,  simply  because  we  are  English?  " 

"  I  will  consider  you." 

"  There  shall  not  be  so  many  invitations  to  the  Elysee. 
And  you  will  keep  away  from  Meaux,  at  any  rate  whenever 
we  are  there? " 

"  I  hear  what  Mademoiselle  says." 

"And,  above  all,  you  will  devise  some  means  to  end 
this  party  at  once — to-morrow?  " 

"  I  will  devise  some  means." 

"The  Grand  Chamberlain  will  manage  it  for  you," 
she  remarked  somewhat  more  sociably;  "he  must  have 
plenty  of  pretexts." 

"  I  cannot  do  it,"  he  cried,  on  a  sudden  casting  aside 
all  remnants  of  his  firmness;  "  I  cannot  do  it;  I  cannot. 
I  will  not  forget  you.  I  refuse  to  promise  never  to  see 
you  again.  If  you  leave  me,  my  heart  breaks.  Muriel, 
I  love  you!  I  love  you!  "  He  seized  her  hand  and  cov- 
ered it  with  kisses. 

For  the  moment  she  could  think  of  nothing  but  this 
glorious  realization  of  her  dreams.  The  Emperor  was 


436  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

kneeling  at  her  feet.  She  felt  the  fever  of  his  lips  upon 
her  fingers.  It  was  the  manner  of  fulfilment,  so  often 
pictured,  destined  by  the  gods. 

She  made  no  effort  to  release  her  hand;  to  escape 
from  this  embarrassing  position.  She  merely  looked 
at  him  and  wondered.  Waiting,  doubtless,  until  he 
should  make  an  end  of  demonstration  and  come  to 
words. 

He  did  not  find  it  quite  so  easy  to  master  his  emotion. 
When  he  did  look  up,  she  could  mark  the  trace  of  tears 
upon  his  cheeks. 

And  in  his  voice. 

"Have  you  nothing  to  say  to  me?"  he  asked;  "no 
answer  to  my  question?  " 

"What  is  your  question?  " 

"Muriel,  do  not  torture  me.  Tell  me  plainly,  will 
you  be  my  wife?  " 

"Yes,"  she  murmured. 

"  You  will  not  repent?  " 

"No." 

"  And  you  love  me?  " 

" yes,  I  love  you." 

"Then  I  am  the  happiest  man  in  France";  but  his 
dolorous  tones  hardly  bore  out  his  statement.  He  made 
no  attempt  to  kiss  her.  He  was  thinking  of  De  Morin 
and  Carache  and  the  Princess  Catharine;  and  at  that 
minute  he  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  have  been 
back  at  the  Temple,  earning  a  modest  fifteen  thousand 
per  annum  and  able  to  marry  whom  he  pleased. 

Let  me  hear  it  from  your  lips  again — that  you  love 
me,"  he  continued  dolefully. 

"I  love  you,"  she  murmured  under  her  breath.  It 
was  like  the  commination  service. 

"And  nothing  shall  ever  part  us." 

"  What  should  part  us?  " 

"Muriel,  you  little  comprehend  the  miseries  of  my 
position.  I  never  seem  able  to  consult  my  own  inclina- 
tions. If  I  so  much  as  hint  that  I  mean  to  take  some 
given  course  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  my  advisers,  they 
immediately  threaten  me  with  the  most  terrible  conse- 
quences." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  437 

"  They  threaten  you,  do  they?  "  she  cried  with  flash- 
ing eyes. 

"Not  exactly  threaten,"  he  murmured,  "but  you 
know  what  I  mean.  Now,  for  instance,  in  the  present 
case,  when  I  inform  Carache  that  I  have  chosen  my 
bride  " — and  he  took  hold  of  her  hand,  and  gazed  with 
longing  heart  into  the  pale  face — "he  will  look  very 
grave,  and  declare  that  the  marriage  is  quite  impos- 
sible." 

She  released  her  hand. 

"  I  do  not  understand  why.      I  am  as — " 

"  Muriel,  Muriel,  you  do  not  follow  me.  You  are  far 
above  me  in" everything — everything;  but  reasons  of 
state,  you  know — England  and  France,  and  folly  of  that 
kind.  He  will  oppose  your  name  through  thick  and 
thin.  He  will  declare  that  you  are  a  foreigner  and  not 
sufficiently  ex —  not  sufficiently  known  to  the  public.  I 
know  him,  the  Misery.  He  will  warn  me  that  I  may 
have  to  buy  your  hand  at  the  cost  of  my  throne.  I 
shall  part  with  him;  and  his  successor  will  adopt  identi- 
cally the  same  attitude." 

"I  release  you,"  she  sneered,  "if  you  are  fright- 
ened." 

"  I  will  never  give  you  up.  I  would  rather  lose  my 
throne." 

"There  is  no  need,  if  only  you  are  bold  and  resolute. 
You  are  Emperor.  Be  Emperor,  then!  Do  not  suffer 
these  men  to  terrorize  you  into  the  position  of  their 
servant."  It  was  something  to  see  her  with  her  eyes  on 
fire,  her  arm  upraised,  her  fragile  body  quivering  with 
the  excitement  of  her  strong  will.  And  as  he  looked  at 
her,  the  thought  came  on  him  that  her  shoulders  were 
fitter  for  the  purple  than  his  own. 

"Be  calm,  little  one,"  said  he  with  a  resumption  of 
forced  gaiety;  "all  will  yet  be  well.  I  mean  to  follow 
your  bidding — who  could  help  but  be  bold,  having  such 
an  ally  at  his  back?  But  we  must  go  prudently,  as  well. 
For  one  thing,  you  should  not  breathe  a  word  of  our 
engagement  to  a  living  soul  until  I  give  you  leave." 

"  How  long  am  I  to  keep  silent?  " 

"Not  long.     Promise." 


438  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"I  promise,"  very  reluctantly:  this  was  hardly  in 
accordance  with  her  notions  of  boldness  and  resolution. 

"  And,  Muriel.  " 

"Yes." 

"  Promise  me  this,  also." 

"What?" 

"That  you  will  suffer  me  to  choose  your  acquaint- 
ances." 

"  How  can  you,  when  I  am  in  India?  " 

"You  will  not  go  to  India.  Your  father  will  leave 
you  at  the  Elyse"e. " 

"You  are  referring  to  Nicholas  Fersen. " 

"Nicholas! — it  maddens  me  to  hear  you  call  him 
Nicholas." 

"Poor  fellow,  it  is  his  name." 

"  Once  again  she  was  the  light-hearted  girl  who  had 
led  him  captive  that  summer  night.  Her  grey  eyes 
sparkled.  She  touched  his  arm  gently  with  her  dis- 
engaged hand. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  humour  your  jealousy,  so  you 
need  not  think  it." 

"Only  this  once,"  he  begged.  "I  will  never  ask 
you  anything  unreasonable  again." 

"You  admit  that  it  is  unreasonable." 

"  If  I  did,  it  was  a  slip  of  the  tongue.  You  know  my 
opinion  of  Count  Fersen.  He — " 

"  Thank  you,  we  need  not  discuss  that  topic.  Directly 
our  engagement  is  publicly  announced,  you  will  be  allowed 
to  have  some  say  in  those  matters.  Not  that  I  promise 
to  listen  to  you.  Until  then,  I  certainly  sha'n't;  so  you 
may  spare  yourself  the  trouble  of  trying  to  convince 
me. " 

Lady  Framlingham  (Madame  Verre  with  her — as  they 
say  in  the  law  reports)  suddenly  hove  in  sight.  She 
bore  down  with  great  promptitude  on  these  two  young 
lovers,  who  had  just  come  to  their  first  anchorage  after 
a  roughish  voyage  through  a  deal  of  dirty  weather.  His 
Majesty  hardly  had  time  to  clear  his  face. 

He  transferred  his  arm  from  the  daughter  to  the 
mother,  and  the  four  of  them  made  their  way  into  the 
house.  Lady  Framlingham  evinced  no  surprise.  Nor 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  439 

did  Madame  Verre.  The  former,  like  the  tactful  woman 
she  was,  expatiated  upon  the  beauties  of  Pierrefonds,  the 
beauties  of  the  arbour,  the  beauties  of  the  departing 
day.  While  Madame  Verre  regaled  her  young  companion 
with  little  anecdotes  about  her  own  vanished  girlhood 
and  the  disillusionizing  which  life  effects. 


Chapter  VI 


"When  I  am — when  we  are  married,  I  shall  do  away 
with  this  circular  boudoir.  I  do  not  call  it  at  all  pretty," 
and  Muriel  looked  about  her  with  a  critical  air.  "  I  can- 
not think  what  made  the  Empress  Eugenie  prefer  it," 
she  went  on,  to  all  appearances  quite  unconscious  that 
her  mother  and  Lady  Threpps  were  only  one  room  in 
advance;  "I  cannot  indeed.  To  begin  with,  the  shape 
is  abominable.  The  light  is  far  from  good,  and  the  deco- 
ration is  hideous." 

"  It  promised  to  be  such  a  miserable  day,"  her  com- 
panion replied,  with  greater  regard  for  any  keen  ears 
there  might  be  on  ahead.  "  I  do  so  detest  rain.  Had  I 
not  come  across  you  and  your  brother  in  the  gallery,  I 
declare  I  should  have  gone  off  to  Paris  with — with  the 
Verres. " 

"Yes,"  said  she,  lifting  a  corner  of  the  tapestry  to 
feel  its  texture,"  and  we  shall  have  to  be  off  to- 
morrow." 

"Oh  no,"  he  pleaded. 

"  We  have  been  here  a  week,"  she  persisted,  "and 
most  of  the  others  are  already  gone.  Besides — " 

"  Besides  what?  " 

"  Nothing,  it  does  not  matter." 

"  Tell  me.     I  hate  those  half-finished  sentences." 

"  I  am  sorry." 

The  sound  of  her  mother's  voice  growing  fainter  in 
the  distance  quickened  her  pace.  Napoleon  ventured  to 
detain  her,  his  hand  upon  her  arm. 

"  One  moment.  Mu —  Muriel,  may  I  not  hope  to  have 
half  an  hour  with  you  this  afternoon?  " 

Her  reply  was  another  question. 

"When  will  our  engagement  be  made  public?  " 
440 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  441 

"  Have  I  not  told  you  a  dozen  times? — so  soon  as  it  is 
possible." 

"Then  why  not  to-day?" 

He  gazed  at  her  reproachfully.  "  I  must  do  nothing 
until  I  have  seen  Carache. " 

"  I  thought  that  you  had  already  asked  me  to  be  your 
wife.  Having  consented,  am  I  now  to  await  Monsieur 
Carache's  acquiescence  before  I  can  consider  our  engage- 
ment final?  You  ought  not  to  subject  me  to  so  humiliat- 
ing a  position." 

"  Pray,  pray  be  reasonable.  Have  you  forgotten 
what  we  said  yesterday?  " 

"I  am  not  likely  to  forget."  Then,  resuming  her 
former  coldness,  "I  was  under  the  impression  that  the 
Emperor  might  do  what  he  pleased  without  consulting 
anybody.  I  am  wrong." 

"Altogether,  my  dear  young  lady;  as  you  will  dis- 
cover when  you  are  Empress." 

"When  I  am  Empress." 

"Why,  Muriel?  Only  a  few  minutes  ago  you  your- 
self were  speaking  of  our  marriage." 

"It  will  never  take  place,"  she  muttered  bitterly; 
"you  are  too  faint-hearted.  I  do  wrong  even  to  listen 
to  you." 

"  Let  us  ask  his  Majesty, "  came  Lady  Threpps's  voice 
through  the  open  doors.  "His  Majesty  is  sure  to 
know." 

"This  is  terrible, "  muttered  the  Emperor,  turning 
helpless  to  every  corner,  like  some  hunted  beast:  "they 
are  coming  back.  Are  we  never  to  get  five  minutes  in 
peace?  " 

"  It  is  your  own  fault. " 

"You  are  very  harsh  and  cruel.  But  you  will  meet 
me  this  afternoon  at  three, — where  we  were  yesterday? 
Deares —  Muriel,  say  that  you  will." 

"  I  cannot  say  any  such  thing.  It  is  far  too  early  in 
the  day  for  me  to  tell  what  I  shall  do  in  the  afternoon." 

But  as  a  matter  of  fact  she  found  her  way  to  the 
trysting-place  at  the  appointed  hour.  Her  lover  was 
pacing  to  and  fro  across  the  threshold  of  the  Berceau. 

"  I  thought  you  were  never  coming,"  he  cried. 


443  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Her  face  showed  plainly  that  she  was  not  in  a  pleasant 
temper.  She  responded  to  his  smile  of  welcome  with  a 
frown  that  filled  him  with  astonishment.  He  dropped 
his  outstretched  hand,  though  not  before  she  had  had 
time  to  ignore  it.  He  attemped  to  speak:  his  voice 
failed  him.  His  knees  commenced  to  tremble  violently. 
He  felt  a  mind  to  turn  and  flee  before  her  wrath, 
ignorant  as  he  was  of  the  cause  of  his  offending.  She 
did  not  leave  him  long  in  doubt. 

"  So  you  have  asked  my  mother  to  stay  on  another 
week?  "  she  began. 

"To  please  you,"  he  murmured.  "  De  Morin  has 
orders  to  write  and  beg  your  father  to  join  us." 

"To  please  yourself,"  she  cried  disdainfully. 

Her  tone  roused  him  from  his  complaisance.  "  I  do 
not  pretend  to  understand  your  moods.  I  love  you;  I 
have  told  you  so  a  dozen  times.  I  have  offered  you  half 
my  throne;  what  greater  proof  could  I  give?  From  that 
moment  forward,  you  have  treated  me  to  nothing  but 
your  whims  and  fancies  and  ill-humours.  Do  you  repent 
your  bargain? — then  say  so  boldly,  and  you  shall  be 
free.  Mind,  I  am  not  offering  to  release  you.  But  I 
will  not  be  a  hindrance  to  your  happiness,  if  you  regret 
your  choice:  Muriel,  I  love  you  too  much  for  that." 

He  pulled  up  sharply.  Here  was  he  drifting  from 
passionate  indignation  into  sentiment;  and  he  did  not 
want  to  be  sentimental  just  at  present. 

"Muriel,  you  must  confess  you  are  unreasonable. 
You  choose  to  be  annoyed  because  I  recommend  caution 
in  this  business;  because  I  won't  make  our  engagement 
public  until  I  have  had  an  opportunity  of  consulting  with 
my  ministers.  I  do  n't  do  you  the  injustice  to  suppose 
that  you  are  not  wiser  than  you  pretend  to  be.  You 
know  what  a  delicate  matter  this  is;  that  the  least  impru- 
dence might  altogether  wreck  our  future  happiness." 

"  Besides, "  he  continued  querulously,  "it  is  for  me  to 
be  annoyed,  not  you.  Your  behaviour,  the  night  of  our 
engagement,  with  Count  Fersen  attracted  general  atten- 
tion. I  was  watching  you.  It  grieved  me  to  see  how 
you  kept  your  promise." 

"I  made  no  promise." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  443 

"At  least,  you  should  be  more  careful  of  your  good 
name." 

"You  are  careful  of  it,  are  you  not?  "  she  retorted. 
Her  biting  scorn  shocked  him  considerably. 

The  earlier  portion  of  his  address — she  had  no  other 
name  for  it — could  not  convince  her;  the  latter  part  only 
served  to  increase  her  wrath.  These  reproaches  of  his 
were  intolerable:  his  solicitude  for  her  reputation  a  bit- 
ter mockery.  She  burst  forth  into  a  torrent  of  recrimi- 
nation, pouring  out  the  grievances  her  heart  had  been 
feeding  on  during  the  last  two  days.  She  was  in  truth  a 
bundle  of  contradictions.  Cold  and  resolute,  and  yet  a 
dreamer;  and  having,  like  most  dreamers,  a  place  within 
her  where  wrongs  eat  their  way,  by  fermentation,  until 
they  poison  the  whole  soul. 

"You  are  full  of  selfishness  .  .  .  selfishness  and 
hypocrisy.  What  do  you  care  for  my  good  name,  pro- 
vided no  one  endangers  it  except  yourself.  It  is  very 
well  for  you  to  talk  of  caution  and  prudence,  when  all 
the  while  you  want  me  to  stay  on  in  your  house  and  come 
down  here  for  clandestine  interviews,  every  bit  as  though 
our  engagement  were  publicly  known.  People  notice, 
you  may  make  your  mind  easy  on  that  score.  Only  this 
morning,  the  odious  Verre  woman  was  good  enough  to 
give  me  a  little  covert  advice.  And  I  am  called  upon  to 
suffer  this,  for  what  reason? — for  none  except  your  selfish 
cowardice.  If  caution  is  necessary,  why  do  you  keep  me 
here?  Why  may  I  not  go  home  and  stay  there,  until  such 
time  as  you  have  consulted  your  miserable  ministers? 
When  am  I  to  know  my  real  position?  Let  me  go!  "  and 
she  shouted  as  though  he  really  held  her;  "let  me  go! 
I  know  why  you  want  me  to  lose  my  good  name.  You 
coward,  you  do  it  with  a  purpose.  I  believe  ...  I  be- 
lieve .  .  .  ";  but  her  lips  refused  to  utter  more. 

Napoleon  heard  her  coldly  to  the  end.  It  was  an 
exhibition  of  worldly  wisdom  on  her  part  which  did  not 
take  him  altogether  by  surprise.  Nor  (strange  as  it  may 
seem)  did  it  render  her  any  the  less  lovable  in  his  eyes. 
But  the  memory  of  Count  Fersen  still  rankled  in  him. 
He  could  not  get  himself  to  frame  a  gentle  answer;  to 
attempt  assuagement  which  should  restore  that  condition 


444  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

of  grudging  tolerance  which  had   marked  her  since  the 

first  avowal  of  his  love. 

—  "You  want  to  be  free,"  he  said  drily. 

"That  is  what  you  are  aiming  at,  you  coward,"  she 
hissed.  "  Free  me,  now  that  you  have  compromised  my 
good  name.  One  would  expect  as  much  from  such  as 
you.  Fling  me  off,  I  say!  You  have  all  you  ever  wanted." 
It  was  a  glimpse  of  that  same  childishness  which  Brisson 
had  noticed  on  a  previous  occasion.  Napoleon  could  not 
subdue  a  faint  smile. 

"So  you  fancy  that  that  is  all  I  ever  wanted,"  he 
said  with  greater  softness.  "  My  dear  child,  do  you 
imagine  that  we  evil  men  care  for  those  sort  of  triumphs? 
I  never  mean  to  set  you  free  of  my  own  accord.  Make 
me  believe  that  you  are  really  anxious  to  go  back  upon 
your  word,  and  I  will  let  you,  though  it  breaks  my 
heart." 

"I  do  not  want  to  retract,"  she  muttered  sullenly. 
"All  I  desire  is  some  little  consideration  for  my  posi- 
tion. Do  n't  bring  me  down  here  any  more  to  these  sort 
of  interviews.  Don't  spend  the  mornings  looking  for 
me.  And  above  all  " — and  she  now  looked  at  him  with 
such  entreaty,  that  he  almost  dared  kiss  her — "do  not 
watch  me  in  the  drawing-room.  You  do  not  wish  people 
to  know  that  I  am  to  be  your  wife;  do  not  let  them  fancy 
that  I  am  ..."  and  once  more  her  lips  refused  to 
speak  her  mind.  But  it  was  not  difficult  to  guess  the 
unuttered  word:  it  thrilled  his  heart.  It  promised  a 
sinister  ending  that  the  unspoken  thought  between  them 
should  make  him  love  her  all  the  more. 

He  carried  her  hand  to  his  lips,  bowing  over  it  with 
an  exaggeration  of  reverence  which  pleased  them  both. 

"My  darling  Muriel,"  he  exclaimed,  employing  a 
solemnity  one  usually  reserves  for  prayers,  "  I  love  you 
too  dearly  to  harm  you.  Think  me  selfish  and  cowardly, 
if  you  will;  but  not  so  selfish  nor  so  cowardly  that  I 
would  not  die  to  shield  you  from  the  merest  whisper.  I 
have  been  thoughtless.  I  love  to  have  you  near  me.  In 
the  mornings  I  cannot  settle  to  my  desk  till  I  have  seen 
you.  Indeed,  I  count  every  moment  lost  which  is  not 
spent  beside  you.  Can  you  blame  me?  I  love  you  so 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  445 

much,  so  much.  But  your  complaints  are  just.  In 
indulging  my  own  deep  longings,  I  forgot  you.  I  did 
wrong  to  press  your  mother  to  remain  on;  I  did  wrong. 
It  is  too  late,  however,  to  regret  that.  All  I  can  do  now 
is  to  show  you  that  I  have  taken  your  lesson  to  heart.  I 
will  not  seek  you  out.  We  will  have  no  more  meetings 
down  by  this  arbour  which  I  love  so  well.  Weak  men 
make  great  resolves,  and  bind  them  with  great  oaths. 
Not  I.  You  have  heard  my  simple  promise;  you  can 
trust  it  fully.  I  know  that  you  can  trust  it;  and  you  know 
that  too." 

His  voice  had  reached  that  selfsame  yearning  and 
regret  upon  it  Wednesday,  when  he  had  offered  an  ever- 
lasting separation. 

"  It  will  be  a  deprivation,"  said  he,  smiling  patheti- 
cally; "I  do  not  pretend  to  deny  it.  But  I  shall  be 
busy.  Carache  is  to  be  here  on  Tuesday;  I  will  order 
him  to  summon  a  council  for  that  day.  On  Wednesday 
your  betrothal  shall  be  publicly  announced;  and  we  can 
get  three  sweet  days  in  this  delightful  place.  Good-by, 
beloved,  till  Wednesday.  Say  you  forgive  me." 

She  still  looked  the  least  bit  resentful;  but  she  mur- 
mured her  pardon  with  a  gentleness  which  left  nothing 
to  be  desired. 

"I  shall  come  here  often  enough  during  the  next 
few  days,"  he  resumed,  full  of  compassion.  "  Not  that 
our  meetings  in  this  place  have  been  over-happy.  On 
Wednesday  we  must  choose  some  other  spot.  What 
children  we  were  to  quarrel.  A  few  calm  words,  you 
see,  have  put  the  whole  matter  right.  Muriel — Muriel, 
will  you  kiss  me?  " 

"  Not  till  Wednesday,"  she  cried.  And  she  started 
back  with  a  bright  laugh,  which  marked  the  final  dispersal 
of  her  displeasure. 

"  Not  one?  " 

"  Not  one!  " 

"And  I  am  not  to  see  you  or  to  speak  to  you  for 
almost  a  week?  Honestly,  I  do  not  know  how  I  shall 
manage  to  endure  it." 

"  Please  do  not  be  so  foolish.  Of  course  you  may 
speak  to  me.  For  heaven's  sake,  do  not  go  rushing  into 


446  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

the  other  extreme,  or  people  will  feel  no  doubt  at  all  in 
the  matter.  What  you  have  to  avoid  is  making  me  con- 
spicuous by  wandering  about  in  search  of  me.  You 
can't  deny  that  you  have  done  it,"  and  she  laughed 
a  second  time.  "And  above  all,  you  must  not 
stand  glaring  at  me  for  hours  together  in  the  drawing- 
room." 

"And  your  mother?  "  he  asked  irrelevantly. 

"  She  may  suspect.     I  have  told  her  nothing." 

"There  can  be  no  harm  in  her  knowing." 

"All  Paris  would  get  the  news  half  an  hour  later. " 

He  looked  at  her  in  some  surprise. 

"My  mother  is  so  careless,"  she  excused  herself. 
"The  temptation  to  gossip  is  too  strong  for  her."  He 
did  not  answer,  and  she  added  curtly: 

"We  must  be  moving." 

"The  misery  begins.  Let  us  say  good-bye  before  we 
start.  Farewell  till  Wednesday.  Will  you  not  kiss  me?  " 

"When  Wednesday  comes.      Quick,  I  am  cold." 

Napoleon  naturally  expected  five  days  of  the  most 
abominable  torture.  He  was  in  the  mood  for  self- 
sacrifice,  and  himself  gave  the  rack  its  first  turn.  For, 
immediately  upon  their  understanding,  having  recon- 
ducted  Muriel  to  the  house,  he  summoned  Godefroy  to 
inform  him  that  he  intended  to  dine  alone.  He  dined 
alone.  It  was  a  miserable  affair, — solitary,  uninterest- 
ing, having  about  it  no  incentive  even  to  refrain  from  a 
second  help  of  pudding.  He  went  bravely  through  it, 
however;  and,  with  the  aid  of  much  black  coffee  and  the 
sugar-basin,  sat  far  into  the  night,  concocting  speeches 
and  proclamations  which  were  intended  to  inform  his 
ministers  and  his  faithful  people  of  his  projected  mar- 
riage. 

And  this  contribution  to  his  own  discomfort  fully  sat- 
isfied him.  He  felt  entitled  to  leave  the  second  wrench 
to  other  hands.  Hence,  when,  the  following  night, 
Godefroy  asked  whether  he  wished  to  repeat  his  solitary 
meal,  he  sternly  repulsed  that  faithful  servitor.  He 
meant  to  comport  himself  during  the  remainder  of  his 
probation  as  though  his  guests  did  not  include  a  certain 
young  lady,  whom  to  look  at  was  a  foretaste  of  heaven. 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  447 

Surely  she  was  able  to  inflict  the  torture  without  help 
from  him? 

And  at  the  outset  she  did  inflict  it,  behaving  precisely 
as  he  had  anticipated.  In  the  daytime,  though  he 
never  expressly  sought  her,  he  knew  she  was  nowhere  to 
be  found.  At  night,  albeit  he  never  actually  watched 
her  face,  he  felt  that  she  remained  obstinately  uncon- 
scious of  his  existence.  When  they  spoke,  it  was  in 
frigid  monosyllables.  He  could  not  realize  that  they 
would  ever  again  walk  together  in  that  sweet  companion- 
ship, which,  having  endured  for  thirty  minutes,  had  left 
a  lifetime  of  bitterness  behind. 

So,  Saturday  and  half  Sunday  went  to  swell  the  tale 
of  wasted  days.  Forty-eight  hours  remained  to  the 
council,  and  he  promised  himself  a  busy  time  over  his 
speech  and  proclamation.  He  already  knew  both  by 
heart:  they  were  wonderfully  soothing,  whatever  might 
be  their  ultimate  chances  of  success. 

But  suddenly  and  inexplicably  she  relented,  herself 
violating  the  restrictions  which  she  had  laid  upon  their 
intercourse.  The  forty-eight  hours  aforesaid  belied 
their  expectation.  He  did  not  go  in  search  of  her;  but 
he  frequently  found  her, — either  in  some  deserted  gal- 
lery or  hall,  or  in  the  arbour  of  famous  memory.  At 
nights,  among  his  guests,  he  often  felt  her  eyes  upon  his 
face,  the  expression  in  them  which  his  own  hopes  sup- 
plied. And  whenever,  at  these  times,  he  spoke  to  her, 
her  animation  seemed  to  promise  as  long  a  conversation 
as  he  desired. 

He  marvelled  at  her  inconsistency,  while  he  took 
advantage  of  it.  He  could  not  understand  it.  But  he 
never  put  it  down  to  the  sort  of  weakness  which  he  was 
sometimes  conscious  of  in  himself,  and  which  made  him 
a  man  prolific  of  resolves,  but  without  resolution. 

Most  men  have  this  common  trait,  to  wit,  an  indefin- 
able, vague  sense  of  possessing  totally  different  charac- 
ters in  the  presence  of  different  people.  To  enlarge 
upon  such  a  universal  peculiarity  would  only  lead  to 
platitudes.  Napoleon  possessed  it  in  a  marked  degree. 
It  came  out  most  forcibly  face  to  face  with  his  future 
bride.  She  made  him  feel  a  flabby  and  irresolute 


448  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

creature,  though  he  knew  the  strength  of  his  own 
nature.  It  could  not  be  that  she  was  the  better  man. 
Certainly,  the  corners  of  her  mouth  turned  upwards, 
while  his  turned  down;  but  he  did  n't  put  much  faith  in 
physiognomy.  Still  the  feeling  worried  him. 

He  had  a  greater  grievance.  He  commenced  even  to 
doubt  the  wisdom  of  his  choice;  though  his  love  burnt 
with  all  its  old  intensity.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  yearned 
after  some  small  return  in  kind  for  all  the  affection  he 
lavished  upon  her.  She  must  see  that  she  was  always 
in  his  thoughts.  Away  from  prying  eyes,  these  thoughts 
found  vent  in  words  of  tenderness  daily  verging  more  on 
the  inane.  And  yet  she  never  responded.  Sometimes 
she  mocked  him.  Sometimes  she  brushed  aside  these 
cloying  endearments  with  one  cold  sentence,  and  passed 
on  to  topics  of  greater  moment. 

It  could  not  be  that  she  disliked  homage.  She  was  a 
woman,  and  his  follies  bore  witness  to  her  charm.  Still 
more  preposterous  to  suppose  that  she  was  selfish  and 
greedy  and  calculating;  that  she  wanted  him  for  his 
crown,  and  intended  to  cut  as  much  as  she  could  of  the 
accessories.  But — but — the  cruel  facts  remained,  her 
offhand  manner  and  her  coldness,  which,  in  the  past,  he 
had  found  so  charming.  It  was  not  maidenly  dislike. 
It  was  not  selfishness  Then  it  must  be  moral  insensi- 
bility; that  want  of  depth  of  soul  which  brings  a  man 
unscathed  and  childlike  through  rape  and  murder. 
Yes,  that  was  it — moral  insensibility!  An  odious  enough 
trait  in  malefactors  and  elderly  people,  but  pardonable 
in  this  young  girl,  whose  shallowness  was  merely  want  of 
knowledge.  Maternity  (he  became  reverent  again) 
would  change  all  that;  maternity,  and  the  lapse  of  days. 
Time  would  teach  her  how  necessary  it  is  to  have  a  con- 
science— for  the  offences  of  one's  friends,  if  not  for  one's 
own. 

And  yet  he  was  not  altogether  consoled.  He  longed 
so  greatly  for  the  slightest  gleam  of  tenderness.  One 
word,  one  single  look  of  affection,  the  merest  sign  that 
she  loved  him — that  was  all  he  wanted.  He  frequently 
asked  her  for  it;  always  in  vain.  So  he  was  driven  to 
contemplate  his  own  devotion.  He  expatiated  on  its 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  449 

priceless  value:  it  was  not  too  common,  he  affirmed,  a 
love  like  this.  Given  by  the  humblest  beggar  to  a 
queen,  her  Majesty  were  a  fool  to  spurn  it.  "  Not 
every  lover  loves  as  I  love  you,"  he  said  alliteratively  on 
more  than  one  occasion;  "  the  day  may  come  when  you 
will  be  sorry  that  you  did  not  appreciate  it":  and  she 
always  laughed. 

At  times  she  charmed  him  into  forgetfulness  by  her 
vivacity.  But  he  soon  once  more  remembered.  Even 
her  animation  had  its  seamy  side.  She  shone  most  in 
the  drawing-room,  and  Majesty  soon  conceived  an  ugly 
suspicion  that  she  desired  to  show  mankind  the  pattern 
of  his  chains.  He  therefore  made  their  conversations  as 
brief  as  possible,  giving  reasons  next  day  in  the  arbour. 

If  it  were  really  her  wish  that  men  should  know,  she 
succeeded  admirably.  Men  did  know;  and  tokens  of 
their  knowledge  soon  reached  the  lover's  ears.  Some 
gardener  or  lackey  must  have  played  the  eavesdropper 
at  their  interviews.  Or,  more  likely  still'  the  guests 
could  not  fail  to  notice  what  was  sufficiently  patent  to 
decent  eyes.  People  commenced  to  gossip. 

First,  within  the  confines  of  the  castle,  and  with  bated 
breath. 

Madame  Ponte"coulant,  one  of  the  new  arrivals,  grew 
very  friendly  in  many  directions.  She  took  every  one 
aside  to  inquire  anxiously  whether  there  was  anything  in 
it.  Lady  Threpps  opined  yes.  Madame  Prehlen,  who 
had  come  to  Compiegne  simply  to  annoy  her  husband, 
declared  the  whole  thing  to  be  a  fabrication.  The  Em- 
peror, she  maintained,  being  as  good  as  betrothed  to  the 
Princess  Catharine,  daughter  of  Peter.  Monsieur  Preh- 
len, for  his  part,  did  not  seem  quite  so  certain.  He  and 
Lord  Threpps  had  by  now  become  inseparables.  The 
Norwegian,  without  specifying  Catharine,  candidly 
hinted  at  a  Russian  marriage,  which,  if  it  were  not  pre- 
vented by  untoward  circumstances,  would  benefit  the 
cause  of  European  peace.  The  servants'  hall  shared  in 
these  suspicions.  And  from  the  lower  regions  it  was  no 
great  distance  to  the  town,  and  even  less  to  Paris. 

On  Monday  evening  men  were  talking  about  it  in  the 
clubs  and  on  the  boulevards.  Tuesday  morning,  a  lead- 


450  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

ing  journal,  which  was  both  moderate  and  friendly, 
published  the  rumour  and  embellished  it  with  comments 
which  were  neither.  The  article  found  its  way  into 
the  Palace.  Prehlen  showed  it  to  Threpps,  who  passed 
it  to  Ponte"coulant,  who  passed  it  to  De  Morin,  who 
passed  it  to  my  Lord.  Uncle  and  nephew  no  longer  treated 
the  matter  as  mystery.  Napoleon  told  the  Chamberlain 
everything;  and  the  Count  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  young  master  would 
be  cleverer  than  he  had  fancied,  were  this  marriage  really 
to  take  place.  So  he  gave  him  the  attack,  without 
any  preliminary  innuendo. 

Our  hero  fell  in  with  his  beloved  quite  by  accident, 
that  same  morning,  and  the  two  young  people  discussed 
the  situation. 

"  My  darling,"  said  he,  answering  her  statement  that 
she  had  read  it,  "you  must  not  heed  such  things." 

"  I  do  not,"  came  the  composed  rejoinder.  "But  it 
will  make  your  task  this  afternoon  a  very  difficult  one." 

"  Never  fear.  They  may  take  my  throne  from  me;  I 
will  never  give  you  up." 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  say  such  foolish  things. 
Where  is  your  spirit?  Not  a  single  other  sovereign  in 
Europe  would  talk  as  you  do." 

"  Muriel,  give  me  a  little  word  of  love.  Even  if  you 
do  not  feel  it,  give  it  me,  so  that  I  am — so  that  I  may 
have  courage  for  this  afternoon." 

But  she  did  not  see  her  way  to  yield  compliance. 
Accordingly,  he  assured  her  without  it  that  he  was  pant- 
ing for  the  ministerial  encounter. 

The  November  sun  came  pouring  through  the  win- 
dows of  the  Council  chamber,  onto  the  green  table,  sur- 
rounded as  yet  by  empty  chairs.  The  room  was  crowded ; 
and  the  conversation  still  hovered  round  Compiegne, 
doubtless  dreading  state  questions.  Carache,  in  deep 
mourning,  and  with  waxen  face,  stood  beside  his  master. 
They  were  chatting  gaily.  The  little  one  had  been  dead 
three  days.  He  did  not  forget  her;  but  the  dead — well, 
the  dead  are  dead,  and  the  living  are  still  chained  and 
have  to  work.  Ponte"coulant,  sucking  himself  as  always, 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  451 

made  one  of  the  royal  circle.  Brisson  stood  by  him; 
the  two,  by  much  craning  and  straining,  caught  occa- 
sional glimpses  of  the  terrace,  the  beauties  of  which 
Napoleon  was  pointing  out  to  Carache.  Another  group, 
composed  of  MM.  Verre,  Petard,  Freron,  Neil,  and 
Graves,  lounged  at  the  second  window,  looking  out  upon 
the  selfsame  scene;  while  the  Minister  of  Justice,  who 
somehow  was  always  shunned  of  his  companions,  stood 
within  the  third  embrasure  and  pretended  to  be  im- 
mersed in  official  documents.  These  papers  never  failed 
him  on  such  occasions;  they  served  to  annoy  his  col- 
leagues, and  they  mitigated  the  too  obvious  pariahdom 
attaching  to  his  office.  For  the  rest,  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  De  Morin  had  loitered  about  the  Emperor's  apart- 
ments all  the  morning  to  receive  a  summons;  Mesnil  had 
gone  to  Paris  to  escape  one.  Neither  were  present. 

"I  trust  we  sha'n't  be  kept  here  all  day,"  Verre  said, 
sotto  voce,  to  his  companions.  "I  want  to  get  to  town 
by  the  six  train." 

"  I  too,"  murmured  most. 

"  Have  you  any  notion  what  the  business  is?  "  Verre 
went  on. 

"  I  suspect,"  said  Petard,  Minister  of  Finance. 

"  Let  me  hear." 

"  You  were  in  Compiegne  yourself  last  week?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  have  been  to  Geneva  and  back  since  Fri- 
day; I  am  painfully  ignorant  of  Paris  news." 

"  Shsh,  not  so  loud.  Have  you  seen  this  morning's 
Imperials?  " 

"  I  never  read  it." 

"  You  do  wrong  not  to. ' ' 

"Well,  what  did  it  say?  " 

"  Something  about  an  Imperial  marriage,"  replied  the 
Treasurer,  bringing  his  mouth  close  enough  to  the  win- 
dow to  cloud  the  glistening  glass. 

"  Hark,"  from  Neil,  Public  Instruction,  "  what  is  his 
Majesty  saying?  " 

"  Nothing  of  exceptional  interest,  to  judge  from  the 
g/eat  one's  first  words. 

"  Whether  the  place  keeps  as  beautiful  later  on  in 
the  year  is  doubtful.  Even  now,  I  find  it  a  trifle 


452  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

sombre;  with  snow-clouds  about,  it  must  become  gloom 
itself." 

"  But,  with  all  respect,"  interjected  Pontecoulant,  try- 
ing to  keep  between  the  two  august  heads  in  front, 
"does  not  Octave  Feuillet  say  the  contrary." 

"I  prefer  to  agree  with  your  Majesty.  Feuillet 
could  only  stand  Compiegne  from  the  fireside  corner;  he 
was  not  a  competent  judge." 

"But,  my  dear  Carache, "  rejoined  his  colleague, 
"Feuillet  had  the  eye  of  an  artist." 

"And  I  have  not,"  laughed  Bonaparte. 

"  I  did  not  mean  that,"  said  the  Minister,  simulating 
excessive  confusion. 

Carache  waved  Feuillet  to  one  side. 

"  His  Majesty  will  be  back  in  town  on  Monday?  " 

"Yes.  My  conscience  pricks  me  for  having  brought 
you  here  to-day.  My  business  might  well  have  waited. " 

"Not  mine,"  Carache,  significantly. 

"You  have  business,  too;  I  did  not  know.  Ah,  look 
over  yonder," — and  Napoleon  lifted  his  voice  so  that  the 
whole  room  might  hear  him, —  "mark  that  flood  of  sun- 
light bathing  those  distant  trees.  How  beautiful!  " 

"Beautiful!  "  from  Carache  and  Pontecoulant. 

"Beautiful  indeed!  "  from  Verre,  and  Neil,  and  Pe- 
tard, and  Graves. 

"  Delicious!  "  from  the  Justiciar,  all  by  himself  in  the 
third  embrasure. 

At  that  identical  moment,  while  their  souls  were 
uplifted  to  admire  the  flood  of  sunlight  bathing  the 
distant  trees,  and  their  several  hearts  were  softened  and 
subdued,  Lady  Muriel  Mendril,  accompanied  by  her 
brother,  sauntered  lazily  along  the  terrace  beneath  their 
windows. 

A  deep  silence  fell  upon  them. 

Marshal  Brisson  became  crimson.  Pontecoulant 
sucked  himself  blue.  Monsieur  Carache  puckered  his  nose, 
that  rippled  into  a  point,  while  Verre  nudged  two  of  his 
neighbours  and  smiled  at  Neil  and  Graves.  The  Justiciar, 
who  was  a  nervous  man — the  result  perhaps  of  his  isolated 
office — felt  sorely  tempted  to  give  one  poignant,  long- 
drawn  howl,  after  the  fashion  of  some  friendless  hyena. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  453 

Napoleon  did  not  feel  conscious  of  any  change  of 
colour;  but  his  heart  instantly  conceived  the  most  bitter 
hatred  against  his  beloved.  Everything  about  her  came 
in  for  a  share  of  his  detestation — her  careless  step,  the 
poise  of  her  head,  her  easy  manner,  so  supremely 
unconscious  of  the  nine  elderly  and  faultlessly  attired 
gentlemen  who  watched  her  progress  with  such  interest. 
He  felt  a  craving  to  be  done  with  her  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. He  turned  away,  even  before  the  two  were  out 
of  sight.  "Come,  gentlemen,"  he  said  coldly,  "to 
business  if  you  please." 

He  moved  with  a  stately  stride  towards  the  table. 
The  ministers  fell  into  their  place  around  the  board. 

"We  are  here,"  said  Carache,  shuffling  among  his 
papers,  "  in  response  to  your  Majesty's  command.  This 
will  not  supersede  the  Council  to  be  held  at  the  Elyse"e 
on  Monday." 

"  I  am  grateful  to  you,  gentlemen.  I  regret  bringing 
you  all  this  way;  and  really,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it, 
I  do  n't  know  that  there  was  any  actual  need  of  an 
extraordinary  meeting." 

"We  are  your  Majesty's  servants,"  said  Carache; 
"we  are  always  at  your  disposal." 

"  I  am  aware  of  it,"  and  he  could  get  no  further. 

His  anger  had  subsided;  his  beloved  was  once  more 
his  beloved — with  qualifications.  But  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  not  to  broach  the  marriage  project.  This 
should  be  her  recompense  for  her  want  of  tact.  My 
Lady  would  have  to  wait  a  few  days  longer.  So  he  cast 
about  him  for  some  important  topic  to  put  in  its  place. 
For  the  stubborn  facts  remained,  that  this  was  an 
extraordinary  Council,  and  the  gentlemen  had  come 
many  miles  from  Paris.  They  could  not  be  dealt  with 
with  such  ease. 

"MM.  Fre"ron  and  Petard,"  he  began  in  despair, 
"have  consulted  together  about  a  new  lighthouse 
to  be  constructed  at  Royan,  in  the  Charente-Infer- 
ieur? " 

The  ministers  named  bowed  low,  no  doubt  well 
pleased  at  this  sudden  prominence. 

"  Would  your  Majesty  prefer  that  I  began?  "  said  the 


454  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Premier;  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply  he  chose  a 
paper  from  his  bundle  and  cleared  his  throat. 

"  I  have  here  a  report  from  the  Prefect  of  Police. 
It  deals  with  the  various  plots  against  the  constitution. 
The  moving  spirit  in  them  all  is  the  Eurasian  Nadez. 
He  and  an  inner  ring  of  disciples  have  entered  into  a 
definite  conspiracy  to  assassinate  your  Majesty." 

"  Why  are  they  not  in  prison?  "  shouted  the  Emperor. 

"The  rules  of  the  game,  my  dear  master.  Nadez 
has  had  interviews  with  Arnold  Loog,  the  Senator,  and 
with  General  Changarnier.  Also,"  and  the  Premier 
went  very  slowly,  "with  Prince  Felix  Bonaparte  and 
Monsieur  de  Morin." 

"  The  thing  is  absurd.     I  will  not  believe  it." 

"I  can  only  say  that  the  Grand  Chamberlain  was 
closeted  with  Nadez  for  nearly  an  hour  yesterday 
morning." 

"But  De  Morin  has  not  stirred  from  Compiegne. " 

"  Exactly.     Nadez  was  here  in  the  Chateau." 

"  Good  God,  I  am  trapped  indeed!  " 

It  rose  to  heaven,  a  cry  of  despair,  a  prayer  for 
mercy.  Not  a  man  present  but  understood  its  meaning; 
for  it  lit  up  in  a  lurid  flash  the  soul  of  this  potentate 
cowering  in  his  chair. 

"Sire,"  said  Carache,  "the  first  one  of  Nadez's 
gang  (including  himself)  that  approaches  within  a  mile 
of  your  Majesty  shall  be  arrested." 

"  At  least  I  may  tax  De  Morin  with  his  treachery?  " 

"  Not  if  you  will  be  advised  by  us.  We  shall  guard 
you.  We  must  get  you  to  sign  the  warrants,"  and  the 
speaker  selected  four  papers,  which  themselves  suggested 
assassination,  they  were  so  severe  and  blue.  Napoleon 
signed  Loog's  and  Changarnier's. 

"This  for  Prince  Felix,"  said  Carache. 

"He  is  at  Auteuil,"  murmured  Verre,  "and 
engaged  on  an  allegorical  picture." 

The  Emperor  signed  it  all  the  same. 

"  Now  for  De  Morin." 

"I  cannot  do  it."  His  words  brought  a  smile  to 
Brisson's  face;  even  the  Premier  seemed  softened. 

"  I  must  persist  in  my  request.  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  455 

"And  I  in  my  refusal.  You  cannot  expect  me  thus 
to  condemn  my  kinsman  and  benefactor  unheard.  The 
thing  is  monstrous.  Why,  I  should  be  confined  for 
forty-eight  hours  to  the  Elyse"e,  any  moment  you  or  the 
Prefect  thought  fit." 

Carache  put  the  warrants  back  into  his  bundle. 
"That  finishes  my  business.  His  Majesty  will  not 
speak  to  De  Morin?  " 

"No." 

"Good.  The  end  of  next  week  should  see  some 
sort  of  crisis.  Patience,  sire;  that  is  all  that  one  needs 
in  these  things." 

"  I  will  try  and  be  patient." 

"We  are  grateful.  So  much  for  Nadez  and  Company! 
Sire,  we  await  your  orders." 

The  other  ministers  followed  their  leader's  example. 
Such  as  had  indulged  in  documents  laid  them  on  one 
side;  and  all  assumed  attitudes  of  deep  attention,  which 
varied  with  their  various  temperaments.  Eight  pairs  of 
eyes  were  turned  upon  his  Majesty's  countenance.  He 
looked  blankly  from  one  to  the  other:  the  period  of 
grace  had  not  been  utilized.  Instead,  he  had  wasted  it 
in  angry  fears.  Here  he  was,  no  better  equipped  than 
twenty  minutes  back.  Having  summoned  them  for  im- 
portant business,  he  had  no  business  to  impart. 

"MM.  Petard  and  the  Minister  of  Marine  have 
consulted  about  a  new  lighthouse  at  Roy — "  he  stopped 
abruptly,  his  face  on  flames.  How  he  cursed  his  lack  of 
invention.  His  next  cast  proved  more  successful. 

"  General  Clisserole  has  put  one  question  to  me, 
which  I  do  not  feel  inclined  to  answer  without  first 
getting  the  benefit  of  your  advice.  What  is  to  be  the 
language  in  the  law  courts?  " 

"Your  Majesty  must  postpone  that  matter  till  Mon- 
day. I  shall  be  then  in  possession  of  data  likely  to  help 
us  in  arriving  at  a  sound  conclusion." 

There  was  no  help  for  it;  he  must  bring  the  Council 
to  an  end.  The  Ministers  might  think  what  they  would. 
He  started  out  on  this  last  purpose;  and,  before  he  had 
gone  five  words,  found  that  he  had  stumbled  into  the 


456  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

matter  closest  his  heart.  It  is  a  common  habit  among 
weak  people. 

"Before  we  disperse,  gentlemen,  I  desire  to  mention 
one  thing  more.  At  the  last  Council,  you,  Monsieur 
Carache,  were  kind  enough  to  say  that  France  eagerly 
awaited  my  marriage.  I  have  lost  no  time  in  acting 
upon — upon  your  hint.  Gentlemen,  I  have  chosen." 

"Sire,  we  congratulate  you  from  the  depth  of  our 
souls.  We  only  delay  to  hear  her  Highness'  name  to 
fling  our  homage  at  her  feet."  He  meant  a  telegram. 

"  Hum!  the  lady  is  not  a  princess." 

"Indeed?" 

Napoleon  could  get  no  further.  It  seemed  the 
simplest  thing  in  the  world  to  speak  her  name  (he  used 
to  moan  it  a  few  weeks  back,  but  that  was  in  the 
privacy  of  his  own  chamber). 

' '  She  is  not  a  princess? ' '  the  Premier  repeated  politely. 
"Whoever  the  lady  may  be,  without  doubt  she  is 
charming?  " 

"She  seems  to  me  eligible,"  answered  poor  Na- 
poleon. "You  gave  me  the  hint,  so  I  had  to  choose 
somebody." 

"The  Princess  Catharine  would  be  a  most  popular 
selection." 

No  reply. 

"Or  the  Princess  Clothilde  of  Hesse-Cassel  might  be 
had  for  the  asking.  She  is  not  beautiful,  I  admit;  but 
she  has  enormous  wealth.  But  this  lady  whom  your 
Majesty  refers  to, — no  doubt  she  is  equally  eligible? " 

"Marshal  Brisson  knows  her,"  faintly. 

"Not  I,"  responded  the  bluff  soldier;  "unless  you 
refer  to  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Framlingham?  " 

The  Emperor  nodded. 

"You  are  quite  right,"  with  dying  accents;  "I  have 
chosen  the  Lady  Muriel  Mendril. " 

He  would  have  given  his  soul  to  have  been  met  by  a 
storm  of  loud-voiced  opposition.  He  would  have  wel- 
comed a  whoop  of  indecorous  laughter.  But  the  terrible 
silence  which  was  the  sole  result  of  this  brave  announce- 
ment turned  his  heart  to  stone. 

Carache,  the  ubiquitous,  ended  his  misery. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  457 

"We  note  your  Majesty's  remarks,"  said  he.  "  Does 
this  complete  your  business?  " 

The  other  gave  a  startled  "Yes";  he  did  not  catch  the 
drift  of  the  Premier's  question. 

"  Then  may  I  suggest  that  the  Council  be  concluded? 
Some  of  us  desire  to  catch  the  six  o'clock  train  to  town." 

"As  you  please." 

"  Gentlemen,  the  Council  is  at  an  end." 

They  rose.  Without  a  look  to  either  side  the  Emperor 
passed  into  his  library.  The  door  closed  upon  him,  and 
Carache  sprang  into  the  chair  which  he  had  just  vacated. 

"One  moment,  gentlemen.  Not  a  word  about  this. 
You  may  take  it  that  the  Lady  Muriel  Mendril  will  never 
be  Empress.  That  is  all.  Good-night,  gentlemen ;  good- 
night."  They  filed  past  his  chair  out  of  the  room;  and  as 
they  went,  each  man  bowed  to  him.  Verily,  he  might  just 
have  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  his  fathers,  or  been  pro- 
moted, vice  his  Majesty — in  the  library.  Directly  the 
last  was  gone,  he  stole  up  to  the  Emperor's  door  and 
tapped  gently. 

Napoleon  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  glaring 
round  him  like  some  wild  beast.  The  Minister  drew 
back  in  pretended  alarm;  his  master  beckoned  him 
forward. 


Chapter  VII 


"What  is  it?"  tartly. 

Carache  knew  men,  and  what  was  the  fitting  time  for 
what.  On  the  present  occasion  he  went  straight  to  the 
point. 

"  Of  course,  sire,  this  marriage  can  never  take  place  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  France  would  not  tolerate  it  for  an  instant." 

"You  all  say  the  same  thing,"  groaned  his  Majesty. 
"Were  I  Emperor  in  aught  but  name,  I  would  make 
France  tolerate  it." 

He  suffered  his  anger  to  dwindle  and  die  away.  It 
never  made  impression  upon  these  imperturbable  adver- 
saries, and  only  served  to  put  him  at  a  disadvantage. 
So  he  flung  himself  into  a  chair,  and  stretched  himself 
almost  full  length,  in  utter  misery  and  despair.  Not 
waiting  for  either  command  or  invitation,  Carache  laid 
hold  of  another.  He  settled  himself  quite  close  to  his 
master.  He  went  so  far  as  to  lay  a  hand  upon  the  Im- 
perial arm,  where  it  was  suffered  to  remain.  And  when 
he  spoke,  his  voice  adopted  a  caressing  character  that 
breathed  of  peace. 

"I  know  my  master's  noble,  loving  heart.  I  appre- 
ciate all  the  difficulties  of  his  position ;  above  all,  the 
great  loneliness  to  which  he  is  subjected,  and  which 
must  lie  heavily  upon  such  an  ardent  nature.  Shall  I  go 
further? — yes;  well,  then  I  will  confess  that  I  have  long 
ago  guessed  his  secret.  France  is  ignorant  of  it;  his 
nearest  servants  are  ignorant  of  it;  aye,  his  own  heart 
hardly  yet  has  grasped  full  cognizance;  I  alone,  his 
faithful  servant,  have  known  it  for  months.  I  have 
watched  its  growth  from  the  commencement.  I  have 
watched  it,  and  I  have  never  wondered.  The  young 

458 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  459 

lady  is  indeed  charming.  No,  I  never  wondered.  I 
knew  it  would  be  so,  directly  after  your  first  meeting  in 
the  summer  down  by  the  river-side  at  Meaux."  Napo- 
leon started,  while  Carache's  voice  lost  itself  in  a  trem- 
bling whisper,  full  of  tender  yearning  for  that  beautiful, 
vanished  time. 

"  I  knew  you  would  come  to  love  one  another.  I  envy 
you.  I  envy  the  Lady  Muriel.  You  are  both  young, 
full  of  poetry  and  fire;  you  are,  furthermore,  united  by 
an  ardent  affection  which  will  prove  itself  indissoluble. 
You  cannot  exactly  marry — what  of  that?  Both  of  you 
knew  as  much,  in  your  heart  of  hearts,  at  the  outset. 
And  marriage  would  contaminate  and  destroy  a  love  such 
as  yours.  Ah,  yes — need  I  repeat  it? — I  know  the  colour 
of  your  mutual  affection.  I  saw  its  birth  at  Meaux;  I 
watched  its  second  birth  in  the  ballrooms  of  the  Elys£e ; 
I  am  here  to-day  to  prevent  you  stifling  it  and  flinging 
it  away.  I  mean  to  preside  at  its  apotheosis.  You  will 
marry  a  political  bride,  as  many  another  sagacious  mon- 
arch has  done  before  you.  You  will  raise  up  political 
heirs,  on  whom  you  may  bestow  just  as  much  affection 
as  you  think  fit:  some  of  them  are  sure  to  be  hydro- 
cephalus.  Your  Empress  (let  us  call  her  Catharine)  will 
not  bother  much  about  your  fidelity.  The  state  will  take 
good  care  of  hers.  And  all  this  time,  the  poem  of  your 
life  pursues  its  jewelled  path.  Somewhere,  afar  from  the 
bustle  of  your  state  existence,  in  Meaux,  for  choice,  where 
first  you  met,  you  and  your  beloved  will  spend  days  of 
perfect  bliss.  There  shall  be  children  round  you  to 
teach  you  how  happy  private  fathers  are;  "  and  his  voice 
broke.  "  In  kings  the  heart  is  nearer  the  left  hand.  But 
I  have  said  enough.  My  dear  master,  I  must  bid  you 
good-night.  I  want  you  always  to  remember  I  have  two 
characters.  On  the  one  hand,  I  am  your  servant,  whom 
you  may  dismiss  at  a  minute's  notice.  On  the  other,  I 
I  am  a  man  advanced  in  years  who  gives  the  benefit  of  a 
lifelong  experience  to  his  dear  young  lord.  Good-night, 
my  Emperor. " 

All  this  while  his  hand  had  rested  in  its  original  posi- 
tion. He  moved  it  down  to  seize  Napoleon's,  which  he 
straightway  carried  to  his  lips.  Then  they  parted.  And 


460  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

in  the  corridor  the  Premier  muttered:  "  That  was  a  good 
shot  about  Meaux ;  really  the  Prefect  is  most  invaluable. ' ' 

It  would  be  indeed  a  pleasant  thing  to  shift  the  scene 
a  little  while,  and  change  the  characters.  To  accom- 
pany the  Premier  to  his  bedroom,  for  instance ;  to  see  him 
fling  off  the  minister  and  bend  over  his  open  portmanteau 
to  tend  a  bunch  of  faded  violets.  To  behold,  eye  to  eye, 
with  him,  the  picture  which  these  withered  flowers  recalled. 
Two  weeks  back,  upon  this  very  day,  his  darling  had 
burst  into  his  room,  flushed  from  her  walk,  bearing  this 
gift  aloft.  And  now  she  was  rotting — but  hush,  what 
good  could  come  of  that?  Oh,  ye  gods  that  have  prom- 
ised, beware  if  we  never  meet  them  more!  So  he  lay 
the  violets  back  among  his  pocket-handkerchiefs,  and 
replaced  the  lid.  Pleasant  again,  to  follow  him  as  he 
leaves  his  bedroom  and  goes  in  search  of  Brisson,  his 
favourite  in  the  Cabinet, — Brisson  who  listens  so  well  and 
never  contradicts.  Pleasant  truly ;  but  impossible.  For 
Napoleon  still  claims  the  exclusive  attention  of  his 
chronicler,  if  of  no  one  else. 

The  more  our  hero  thought  of  it,  the  more  he  admired 
Carache's  sagacity.  It  translated  into  living  words  what 
had  long  held  his  brain.  The  beautiful  picture  seemed 
quite  convincing:  he  half  made  up  his  mind  to  give  it  to 
Muriel  at  second  hand.  She  would  surely  acquiesce.  But 
no  more  business!  He  must  have  the  air,  after  this  pent- 
up  day.  He  donned  hat  and  overcoat,  and  passed  into 
the  open  by  way  of  his  private  door. 

He  suffered  his  feet  to  lead  him  whither  they  would; 
half  unconscious  perhaps  of  his  destination,  but  not 
surprised  when  he  found  himself  once  again  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  arbour,  and  face  to  face  with  Muriel 
Mendril.  She  made  no  pretence  of  being  there  by  acci- 
dent. He  did.  And  commenced  forthwith  protesting 
a  feigned  astonishment  to  hide  a  very  real  anxiety.  Not 
that  either  seemed  necessary:  my  Lady  laughed  them 
both  away;  and  since  her  mood  was  unusually  gracious, 
Napoleon  did  not  try  to  bring  them  back.  They  avoided 
any  reference  to  the  Council;  possibly  each  was  waiting 
for  the  other  to  begin.  Never  before  had  Muriel  shown 
herself  so  fascinating.  She  laughed  at  him  and  teased 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  461 

him  in  a  manner  that  nearly  drove  him  to  distraction. 
He  became  once  more  her  devoted  slave.  No  form  of 
self-abasement  likely  to  bear  witness  to  the  power  of 
her  beauty  seemed  too  degrading.  He  complained  that 
in  her  presence  he  was  weak  and  vacillating;  and  if  he 
did  not  exaggerate  this  weakness,  it  was  only  because  he 
was  not  able.  He  maligned  his  character  from  every 
point  of  view;  and  this  is  the  curious  part  of  love, — 
under  its  influence,  men  think  about  their  best  points 
and  like  to  display  them,  while  they  speak  about  their 
worst. 

He  was  in  an  expansive  mood.  He  told  her  of  his 
early  life,  its  trials  and  disappointments;  and  for  her 
benefit  went  over  anew  the  whole  marvellous  story  of  his 
sudden  rise  to  fame.  Relate  this  narrative  as  often  as 
he  would,  he  always  found  fresh  pleasure  in  it.  He  laid 
stress  on  all  the  dramatic  touches  —  his  fortunes  at  their 
lowest  just  before  the  dawn,  his  meeting  with  the  Bris- 
sons,  his  resolute  conduct  in  the  barrack  square.  "I 
verily  believe  it  is  the  most  decisive  thing  I  have  ever 
done,"  he  exclaimed,  laughing,  not  quite  believing  that 
she  believed  it,  all  the  same;  "  I  do  indeed.  Ordinarily, 
I  am  one  of  the  weakest  of  men  —  only  you  must  n't  tell 
my  ministers." 

"7  sha'n't  tell  them."  He  did  not  mark  her  emphasis: 
he  was  not  by  any  means  a  dull  man,  but  love  is  blind. 

He  commenced  to  fondle  his  upper  lip,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  totally  shorn.  ''You  can  imagine  how 
grateful  I  am  to  Brisson  and  the  Grand  Chamberlain." 
He  repeated  the  same  statement  in  a  different  form  half 
a  dozen  times.  He  wanted  to  convince  himself  that  the 
last  named  of  these  benefactors  was  incapable  of 
treachery.  Muriel  treated  this  departure  with  the  same 
childlike  unconcern. 

"Do  you  really  like  Marshal  Brisson?"  she  asked 
lightly. 

"My  dear  child,  what  a  question.  I  am  afraid  you 
cannot  have  been  listening." 

"He  does  not  seem  very  intelligent." 

"But,  my  dear  girl,  you  cannot  have  exchanged  half 
a  dozen  words  with  him." 


462  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  Oh  yes,  I  have. "  She  gave  a  pert  little  nod,  denoting 
deep  mystery:  he  thought  her  absolutely  ravishing. 

"I  know.  You  have  sat  next  to  him  at  dinner  and 
asked  him  for  the  salt.  Probably  he  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  you  were  a  most  uninteresting  little  person." 

"  Do  not  be  impertinent,  if  you  please."  And  much 
more  to  the  same  effect,  which  a  veracious  chronicler 
may  be  excused  if  he  omits. 

But  before  long  she  appeared  to  think  she  had  unbent 
enough  for  one  day.  Her  manner  changed  with  star- 
tling abruptness;  the  sunshine  faded  from  her  face,  and 
its  room  was  taken  by  those  beginnings  of  hardness 
which  did  not  promise  well  for  the  years  to  come.  He, 
in  duty  bound,  went  with  her.  His  own  countenance 
became  solemn  and  subdued.  Alas,  with  bitter  reason. 
He  was  commencing  to  remember  Nadez;  and  the  well- 
grown  evergreens  along  their  path  were  not  such  sweet 
companions  as  they  had  been  on  many  a  former  occa- 
sion. 

They  were  moving  slowly  towards  the  setting  sun. 
Its  red  glow  tinged  the  whiteness  of  her  face.  At  least 
he  thought  so. 

"You  have  finished  with  your  horrid  business  for 
to-day?"  she  began.  A  false  note  at  the  outset;  for  he 
had  long  ago  discovered  her  character  to  be  eminently 
business-like.  But  it  did  not  jar  on  him:  he.  too,  pos- 
sessed his  little  affectations. 

"Yes,  thank  heavens.  The  Ministers  were  duller 
than  usual.  If  Carache  does  not  brisken  up  a  bit,  I  shall 
really  have  to  try  some  one  else.  Poor  fellow  —  I  was 
forgetting  —  he  has  just  lost  his  only  daughter." 

"That  must  be  the  little  girl  who  always  rode  with 
him  in  the  Bois.  She  was  pretty,  poor  child.  I  pity 
him." 

"I  wish  he  could  hear  you  say  so.  It  would  be  some 
solace." 

"I  doubt  it.  What  can  you  find  to  talk  about  from 
two  to  five?" 

"We  did  not  meet  at  two.  We  were  not  at  the  table 
when  you  passed  underneath  the  window.  That  must 
have  been  after  three." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  463 

"I?  Under  what  window?  —  I  have  not  stirred  out 
of  the  park  the  whole  afternoon." 

"You  had  to  reach  it  by  way  of  the  terrace." 

"What  has  the  terrace  to  do  with  the  Council  cham- 
ber?" 

"  The  windows  let  onto  the  terrace.  We  were  watch- 
ing the  beautiful  day;  so  every  one  saw  you.  I  felt 
sorely  tempted  to  call  to  you  to  come  and  take  part  in 
our  deliberations."  He  gave  a  little  laugh,  meant  to 
signify  forgiveness  for  her  indescretion ;  and  he  expected 
her  to  join.  But  she  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  Indeed, 
a  somewhat  ugly  frown  passed  across  her  face. 

"I  had  no  idea,"  was  all  she  said. 

"We  had  enough  to  talk  about,"  he  continued 
cheerily. 

The  change  was  marvellous.  She  thrust  a  light  hand 
through  his  arm :  it  was  a  gesture  of  sudden  confidence 
and  warmth. 

"You  silly  fellow,  I  don't  believe  you.  You  men  are 
so  self-important.  Tell  me,  what  can  you  have  found  to 
keep  you  from  —  to  keep  you  busy  from  three  to  five?" 

"Muriel,  you  will  not  be  alarmed?"  he  asked  of  her 
in  a  lugubrious  voice. 

She  became  cold  again  at  once.  Her  nestling  hand 
dropped  away. 

"There  is  a  plot  on  foot  to  take  my  life,"  and  he 
faltered  and  could  say  no  more. 

"  Is  that  all?  I  thought  you  were  going  to  tell  me 
something  terrible." 

"My  God,  isn't  this  terrible  enough?" 

"No";  the  monosyllable  breathed  contempt.  "You 
merely  share  a  risk  common  to  all  rulers.  You  princes 
have  better  lives  than  other  people ;  surely  it 's  not  too 
much  to  expect  that  you  won't  be  nervous  about  your- 
selves? Wait  till  I  am  Empress," — and  her  eyes  kindled, 
while  the  whiteness  of  her  face  needed  the  sun  no  longer, 
— "they  may  hatch  as  many  plots  as  they  choose.  I 
shall  go  everywhere  and  anywhere.  No  one  shall  say 
that  I  am  afraid." 

"  I  am  not  afraid.     Muriel,  you  do  not  love  me." 

"  I  have  never  said  so." 


464  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"  You  do  not  love  me.  You  cannot  love  me,  to  speak 
to  me  like  that." 

"I  have  never  said  so,"  she  repeated  doggedly. 

"  But  I  can  see.  You  do  not  love  me  as  much  as  my 
future  wife  should  do." 

Then  I  should  not  love  you  at  all,  her  brain  mur- 
mured. 

"I  lavish  all  my  heart  on  you,"  he  went  on,  falling  by 
degrees  into  recriminations  used  before,  as  is  the  way  with 
lovers;  "I  worship  the  ground  you  tread  on.  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  show  it.  Your  return  is  meagre  indeed.  I 
want  a  more  generous  one;  I  will  have  a  more  generous 
one.  Were  I  the  poorest  wooer  in  the  land,  the  most 
powerless,  the  most  wretched,  still  I  would  have  more. 
The  woman  who  becomes  my  wife  shall  love  me  as  I 
love  her." 

These  outbursts  of  his,  which  promised  so  well  for 
their  married  life,  always  seemed  to  steel  her  heart, 
making  her  colder  and  more  disdainful  than  ever.  Her 
lips  parted  in  a  scorn  there  was  no  dissembling. 

"  I  understand;  you  want  to  be  free.  Your  first  at- 
tempt was  unsuccessful:  this  is  the  second.  I  see  it  all. 
You  were  too  much  of  a  coward  to  speak  about  our  mar- 
riage to  your  ministers.  You  know  your  timid  heart; 
you  are  certain  that  you  will  never  dare, — so  you  want 
to  be  free.  Go  free!  I  sha'n't  hinder  you." 

She  stopped,  and  coldly  pointed  him  to  go  forward 
and  leave  her  to  return  alone.  She  spoke  without  falter- 
ing and  without  passion. 

"  Go  your  way  and  leave  me  to  go  mine.  Leave  me 
to  go  mine.  You  have  done  your  purpose,  what  more 
could  you  desire?" — once  again  that  schoolgirl  touch 
which  made  him  love  her  all  the  more.  "The  papers 
have  frightened  you.  I  sha'n't  ask  you  to  do  what  you 
dare  not  venture  of  your  own  free  will.  If  you  want 
a  woman  who  loves  you,  I  want  a  man.  I  have  found 
one,  too;  one  who  would  go  to  the  end  of  the  world  for 
me.  You  won't  be  so  successful.  Try  as  you  may,  you 
will  never  find  a  woman  to  love  you.  They  will  all  get 
to  know  you  as  I  know  you,  and  then  they  will  despise 
you  as  I  do." 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  465 

Her  bitter  incisiveness  was  wonderful.  It  contrasted 
strangely  with  this  jumble  of  ill-mixed  reproaches,  which 
showed  that  her  mind  and  heart  were  in  the  clutches  of 
hysterical  passion,  if  not  her  manner.  He  attempted  to 
soothe  her. 

"  Muriel,  Muriel,  they  will  hear  us  in  the  Palace." 

"  Let  them.  They  will  know  what  a  brave  man  their 
master  is, — their  master,  Napoleon  IV,  the  Emperor  of 
the  French!  Do  you  mean  to  persecute  me  further? 
Have  I  not  told  you  that  you  are  free?  Leave  me,  then, 
to  go  my  way  in  peace."  And  once  more  she  pointed 
him  imperiously  forward  to  the  forest  gates,  which  were 
close  upon  them. 

And  as  he  looked  helplessly  at  her,  and  his  eyes 
marked  her  face  and  figure, — neither  over-striking,  though 
he  found  them  so, — the  thought  came  to  him:  what  a 
consort  for  a  great  throne.  He  envied  her  her  indom- 
itable will.  With  some  of  it  himself,  he — but  his  strength 
lay  in  a  different  form. 

A  second  time  she  bade  him  begone.  He  did  not 
stir.  A  third  command  fell  equally  to  the  winds.  Num- 
ber four  she  clothed  in  language  less  flattering  than  she 
had  yet  used. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  and  she  said  as  much.  "  You 
are  the  mean-hearted  coward  I  suspected.  You  want  me 
to  do  everything.  This  rupture  is  to  be  my  fault;  not 
yours.  That  is  how  you  propose  to  salve  your  con- 
science, you  traitor!  " 

And  then  her  twenty  years  flung  aside  the  semblance 
of  self-restraint  so  long  maintained.  She  lifted  her 
hands  quickly  to  hide  her  face,  and  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears.  They  were  the  sweepings  of  wrath  and  disap- 
pointment and  helplessness  and  despair. 

Without  a  thought  for  their  exposed  position,  he 
stepped  forward  and  folded  her  in  his  arms.  Her  hat 
had  already  fallen  to  the  ground;  she  hid  her  weeping 
face  against  his  breast.  He  felt  towards  her  an  exalta- 
tion of  affection  that  breathed  only  reverence.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  held  her  to  him.  And,  with 
love  like  this,  the  last.  The  kiss  upon  her  brow  might 


466  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

well  have  lingered  there  forever:  it  was  the  only  unsul- 
lied one  she  ever  got  from  him. 

"My  little  Muriel,"  he  whispered,  "what  will  be- 
come of  us  if  we  cannot  learn  to  lean  on  one  another. 
Nothing  shall  part  us,  O  my  heart.  Hear  me  swear  it. 
I  cannot  live  without  you." 

Free  again,  she  suffered  him  to  keep  her  arm  and 
lead  her  forward  with  every  sort  of  endearing  epithet. 
Only  now  and  then  a  sob  would  keep  breaking  to  the 
surface  to  remind  them  both  of  their  encounter. 

They  needed  none.  Neither  meant  to  trip  again. 
She  held  his  arm  with  just  enough  of  clinging  to  put  him 
once  more  in  good  conceit  with  himself  and  make  him 
forget  her  bitter  words.  At  the  park  gates,  when  he 
wanted  to  proceed  a  little  way  into  the  forest,  she  held 
him  back,  with  still  an  occasional  sob,  and  bade  him 
consult  his  own  safety.  But  he  would  not  hear  of  dan- 
ger, answering  her — quite  unconsciously — with  her  own 
words,  that  princes  have  so  good  a  time,  the  least 
they  can  do  is  not  to  be  nervous  about  themselves.  She 
yielded,  though  she  did  not  seem  convinced.  And  he 
led  her  forward  along  one  of  the  many  forest  roads.  On 
his  side  he  humoured  her  with  a  full  account  of  the  late 
Council.  He  gave  her  details  of  the  plot,  evincing  great 
merriment  when  every  now  and  then  she  nestled  closer 
to  him  with  a  tiny  shiver  or  peered  nervously  into  the 
deep  shadows  of  the  trees. 

He  dilated  next,  and  with  considerable  humour,  upon 
the  personal  peculiarities  of  his  ministers.  The  satur- 
nine Brisson,  against  whom  my  Lady  had  a  curious 
prejudice;  the  Justiciar,  shunned  of  all  his  colleagues; 
Verre's  repeated  snubbings.  None  escaped.  Carache's 
foibles  came  in  for  the  severest  handling.  Napoleon 
jested  about  his  jealousy.  Each  Council  resolved  itself 
into  a  species  of  harangue  from  the  Prime  Minister.  The 
word  was  always  with  him.  Whoever  tried  to  seize  a 
syllable  rued  his  temerity.  In  the  midst  of  this  last  de- 
scription, which  Muriel  appeared  to  enjoy  immensely, 
the  Emperor  suddenly  bethought  him  what  causes  he  had 
to  love  Carache.  He  did  not  mention  that  point,  though. 
He  told  her  everything  else — everything  which  happened, 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  467 

and  a  little  that  did  n't.  For  he  ventured  to  touch  the 
marriage  question. 

It  was  thin  ice,  but  he  crossed  it  very  skilfully. 

"Personally,  none  of  the  ministers  see  any  objection. 
Ponte"coulant  welcomed  it.  He  said  that  it  would  lead 
to  more  cordial  relations  with  England.  Monsieur  Ca- 
rache  also  showed  himself  exceedingly  agreeable." 

She  was  drinking  in  every  word. 

"  Do  you  know  the  Prime  Minister?  "  he  asked. 

"I  have  met  him.  He  is  an  acquaintance  of  my 
father's." 

"Ah!  After  all,  he  is  a  charming  man:  he  has  a 
deep  heart.  He  congratulated  me  warmly.  Kind,  was  it 
not?  One  must  remember  in  what  trouble  he  is.  Men 
do  not  usually  regard  the  happiness  of  others  when  they 
themselves  are  plunged  in  woe.  He  said  that  he  consid- 
ered me  a  fortunate  man.  Apparently  he  admires  you." 

"Does  he?" 

"And  Marshal  Brisson  as  well — " 

"  Did  he  congratulate  you?" — there  again  was  that 
hateful  note  of  coldness. 

"Certainly  he  did,  more  warmly  than  any  one  else. 
He  spoke  of  you  in  very  flattering  terms.  You  seem  to 
be  quite  famous  already." 

"Ah." 

"But  it  is  needless  to  specify  further:  their  warmth 
was  absolutely  unanimous.  Every  one  had  some  pretty 
little  speech." 

"  I  thought  Monsieur  Carache  suffered  no  one  to  speak 
except  himself." 

"  What  a  suspicious  little  woman  you  are.  They  made 
their  remarks  after  the  Council  was  at  an  end." 

"I  see." 

"So  far  everything  is  very  satisfactory." 

"Very.  But  why  did  you  not  tell  me  this  to  start 
with?  " 

"You  never  asked  me." 

She  made  a  little  movement  of  impatience.  "You 
know  how  important  it  is  that  our  engagement  should 
be  published  as  speedily  as  possible.  And  it  is  not  like 
you  to  keep  back  good  news  when  you  have  any." 


468  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

He  patted  her  hand  with  a  complaisant  smile. 

"  Let  us  turn,"  she  said. 

"I  am  afraid,"  faltered  Napoleon,  "we  shall  not  be 
able  to  make  the  matter  public  just  yet  a  while.  The 
Premier  cautions  prudence.  He  gave  me  his  reasons 
with  great  frankness.  Let  me  repeat  them."  He  had  to 
pause  for  a  short  time  to  discover  what  they  were. 

"For  one  thing,  Nadez's  plot  stops  the  way.  We 
must  squash  it,  and  have  the  Eurasian  under  lock  and 
key,  and  Changarnier  as  well,  and  Loog,  and  De  Morin, 
unless  he  can  clear  himself,"  with  the  dispassionate 
light-heartedness  a  man  uses  in  speaking  to  his  mistress 
about  his  benefactors.  "You  must  not  breathe  a  word 
of  these  things.  The  Emperor's  wife  is  himself.  The 
trouble  will  come  to  a  head  early  next  week.  We  are 
merely  waiting  to  see  whether  we  can  get  any  other 
leading  people  into  our  net." 

"  Does  it  please  you  to  discover  that  your  chief  men 
are  traitors?  "  she  asked,  with  some  disgust.  The  jaunty 
manner  at  once  changed.  He  gazed  more  in  sorrow  than 
in  anger  at  the  hardening  road. 

"  I  am  bound  to  protect  myself. " 

He  resumed  the  flow  of  Carache's  reasons  with  a 
chastened  spirit. 

"The  Chamber  meets  on  Monday  after  this  week's 
recess.  The  Premier  desires  the  opportunity  of  feeling 
their  temper.  Then,  there  is  a  third  point:  he  wants 
your  father's  appointment  to  be  definitely  announced. 
Lord  Threpps  says  that  the  viceroyalty  is  practically  his. 
The  news  of  it  will  give  my  bride  an  added  prestige." 

She  smiled.  This  last  was  a  skilful  stroke  skilfully 
delivered. 

"  My  darling  won't  have  to  exercise  very  much  more 
patience.  Ten  days  is  the  outside  limit.  Eleven  days 
from  now  the  world  shall  know  that  I  am  the  happiest 
man  it  holds." 

He  squeezed  her  arm,  and  she  gave  him,  in  return, 
just  the  faintest  touch  of  a  responsive  pressure;  at  any 
rate,  enough  to  thrill  through  his  frame.  So  he  went  on 
to  fabricate  lies  which  were  quite  gratuitous,  and  which 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  469 

would  merely  result  in  depriving  him  of  pleasures  he 
might  bitterly  regret. 

These  were  among  them. 

"  M.  Carache  expresses  himself  as  most  anxious  that, 
during  this  very  difficult  time,  no  word  of  scandal  should 
attach  itself  to  your  good  name.  He  does  not  think 
much  harm  has  been  done  so  far.  But  he  gives  me  a 
deal  of  advice  as  to  my  future  conduct.  According  to 
his  views,  I  ought  not  to  be  with  you  now.  I  can't  help 
it;  I  couldn't  deny  myself  just  one  last  interview.  After 
to-day,  however,  I  mean  to  obey  him  to  the  letter.  We 
are  not  to  meet  in  private.  In  public  we  are  not  to 
exchange  so  much  as  a  good-morning.  I  am  to  move 
about  as  though  you  did  not  exist.  I  am  not  to  be  too 
cordial  to  your  mother.  You  are  to  be  permitted  to 
depart  on  Saturday;  while  I,  poor  wretch,  must  remain 
till  the  Monday  following.  And  from  Saturday  forward, 
we  are  not  to  meet  again  until  we  are  publicly  betrothed. ' ' 

She  kept  nodding  a  satisfied  assent  to  this  rule  of  life. 

"You  must  introduce  me  to  Monsieur  Carache,"  she 
said,  as  though  he,  too,  would  find  her  irresistible.  "I 
am  sure  I  should  like  him." 

Napoleon  suddenly  recalled  the  night  at  Jervis's 
Restaurant. 

"  But  you  know  him.  I  have  seen  you  dining  in  his 
company. " 

"Then  I  have  forgotten  him,"  she  answered,  with 
great  composure.  "  Certainly  he  has  never  called  upon 
us  since  we  have  been  in  Paris." 

"But  is  he  not  a  friend  of  your  father's?  You  said 
so  just  now." 

"Oh,  poor  father  has  many  friends." 

Poor  Bonaparte  was  positively  wet.  He  remembered 
now  that  the  Minister  had  never  once  referred  to  his 
acquaintanceship,  though  he  had  done  all  the  talking  at 
the  late  interview.  Surely,  Muriel  must  see  through  his 
lies. 

But  she  did  not  seem  to.  She  smiled  placidly  and 
repeated  her  previous  statement: 

"If  I  have  ever  met  him,  I  forget  the  occasion." 


470  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Our  hero  breathed  once  more. 

"He  spoke  a  little  about  the  ceremonial,"  he  went 
on.  "  The  merest  mention — you  understand.  We  rather 
think  that  after  the  proclamation  there  ought  to  be  a 
grand  reception  at  the  Elysee,  for  me  to  present  you  to 
some  of  the  leading  people.  That  would  be  Saturday 
week." 

Her  eyes  glistened.  This  was  what  she  liked;  what 
she  had  long  dreamt  of  beside  the  sea  at  Sidmouth,  in 
days  when  her  coming  king  stood  shadows  only. 

"The  only  thing  is,"  he  went  on  with  real  solicitude, 
"it  will  be  a  big  occasion,  and  I  should  like  you  to 
be  easily  first  among  the  throng  of  well-dressed  women." 

"  I  can  manage  that,"  she  answered. 

Busy  as  they  were  with  these  sweet  fancies,  they  did 
not  notice  how  far  they  had  gone  into  the  forest.  The 
night  was  creeping  in  upon  them.  They  grew  silent 
amid  the  universal  stillness.  On  both  there  fell  that  calm 
sobriety  of  judgment  which  reaches  men  amid  the  falling 
shadows.  Just  as  their  path  stretched  clear  in  front  of 
them,  the  broad  white  path,  its  muddy  ruts  hardening 
with  rime,  so  lay  the  remaining  road  of  life  before  their 
eyes.  They  saw  an  existence  neither  so  glorious  nor  so 
happy  as  they  had  fancied,  but  happy  and  glorious 
enough.  So  these  two  contented  beings  moved  forward, 
full  of  hope  and  confidence,  into  the  unknown.  Moved 
by  some  common  impulse,  both  quickened  their  steps, 
anxious  to  pursue  a  little  farther  this  road  which  seemed 
never-ending.  Its  appearance  proved  deceptive.  A 
few  yards  on  it  turned  abruptly  and  took  its  way 
across  a  circular  clearing  some  two  hundred  paces  in  cir- 
cumference. In  the  centre  stood  one  of  those  numerous 
hunting-pavilions  which  dot  the  forest.  Its  door  lay 
invitingly  open,  and  both  door  and  windows  poured  forth 
a  flood  of  light  that  reached  even  to  the  belt  of  trees. 
Their  way  ran  directly  underneath  the  portal  of  this  fairy 
building.  The  Emperor  declared  that  it  should  be  the 
limit  of  their  walk.  Both  were  filled  with  pleasurable 
excitement.  There  seemed  something  so  weird,  so  fairy- 
like,  in  the  adventure.  This  clearing  in  the  depth  of 
the  forest;  its  smooth  lawn  of  turf  and  dying  leaves  that 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  471 

felt  like  velvet  to  their  feet;  and  the  dark  lines  on  every 
side,  most  ghostly  where  the  light  touched  them. 

The  girl  sprang  up  the  steps. 

"  Shall  we  enter?  "  she  cried  to  her  companion. 

"As  you  wish.  No,  stay — there  maybe  some  one 
within." 

"What  of  that?  "  she  said,  with  all  the  lightness  of  a 
child.  He  followed  her,  infected  by  her  spirit. 

But  on  the  threshold  she  hesitated,  and — the  delight 
of  it! — clasped  his  arm  with  both  her  own. 

"  Suppose — suppose  there  is  danger?  —  Nadez!  —  had 
we  not  better  get  home?  " 

His  Majesty  began  to  feel  very  uncomfortable. 

"  Pooh,  Nadez  cannot  come  to  Compiegne.  There  is 
nothing  to  fear,"  and  he  pushed  boldly  through  the  half- 
opened  door. 

They  found  themselves  straightway  in  a  well-sized 
hall,  which  swallowed  up  the  lower  story.  A  bronze 
cluster,  lit  by  electric  light,  hung  from  the  ceiling  of 
dark  polished  oak.  The  walls,  of  the  like  material,  were 
heavy  with  rusting  armour,  and  antlers,  and  trophies  of 
the  chase.  Easy-chairs,  and  skins,  and  luxurious  couches 
lay  about  in  Oriental  profusion.  A  massive  table,  directly 
underneath  the  chandelier,  gave  at  a  glance  the  history 
of  these  brilliant  lights  in  a  house  that  was  clearly  empty. 
It  groaned  under  a  picturesque  assortment  of  silver  tea- 
pots and  milk-jugs,  teacups  of  egg-shell  pattern,  and 
bearing  the  Imperial  cipher,  and  dishes  filled  with  cakes 
and  bread  and  butter.  The  hunting-lodge,  then,  had 
been  the  goal  of  this  afternoon's  excursion.  Lord  and 
Lady  Threpps,  Lady  Framlingham,  the  Prehlens,  the 
Grand  Chamberlain,  and  the  rest  of  that  elegant  com- 
pany, had  had  their  tea  within  these  walls  half  an  hour 
back.  Here  was  the  debris. 

Muriel  found  the  incident  enchanting.  She  poured 
herself  some  tea  from  the  massive  silver,  and  complained 
because  the  resulting  beverage  only  suited  the  hottest 
summer  day.  She  gobbled  petit  fours,  giving  her  lover 
bread  and  butter.  It  nearly  choked  him;  he  was  begin- 
ning to  feel  the  least  bit  sick.  Never  before  had  she  shown 
such  gaiety,  such  an  abundance  of  animal  spirit.  She 


472  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

asked  a  thousand  questions,  and  did  not  wait  for  a  single 
answer.  She  moved  from  one  end  of  the  hall  to  the 
other,  fingering  the  horns  and  hanging  spears.  Once  she 
ran  lightly  up  the  creaking  staircase  which  led  to  the 
second  floor. 

All  the  while,  Napoleon  lay  back  in  an  easy-chair, 
watching  her  vivacious  movements.  A  silence  had  fallen 
upon  him;  and  when  he  did  succeed  in  breaking  it,  it 
was  with  shaking  voice. 

"Muriel,"  said  he,  "come  and  rest  yourself.  We 
must  be  moving  directly." 

Her  docility  was  marvellous.  The  chair  she  chose 
stood  so  close  to  her  lover's  side  that  she  towered 
above  him  as  he  lounged  at  his  ease.  Her  knees  touched 
the  velvet  elbow  of  his  own.  His  right  hand  swung 
lifeless  from  his  side,  with  knuckles  that  swept  the  floor. 
He  was  literally  at  her  feet. 

"  My  dear  child,"  and  he  spoke  with  averted  gaze, 
"  how  I  envy  you  your  cheerful  spirits.  For  my  part,  I 
feel  depressed  and  tired  out." 

"  That  is  a  pretty  compliment." 

"With  business,  I  mean.  This  last  hour  has  revived 
me  a  little  ;  but  one  takes  a  deal  of  reviving  after  nine 
hours'  hard  labour." 

"I  do  n't  believe  a  word  of  what  you  say.  Nine 
hours!  It  is  my  impression  you  sleep  all  the  mornings." 
She  leant  forward  laughing,  and  lightly  touched  his 
drooping  head  with  a  caressing  gesture. 

"Ah,  Muriel,  you  and  I  will  never  be  as  happy  again. 
We  shall  remember  this  little  adventure  of  ours  long 
hence,  when  the  cares  of  state  hang  heavy  on  our  shoul- 
ders." 

"Goodness  me,  you  are  never  five  minutes  of  the 
same  mind.  Just  now  you  said  you  were  weary  to 
death." 

"So  I  was  —  just  now.  Yes,"  he  pursued,  "we 
shall  remember  this,  one  day,  and  regret  it.  How  happy 
we  should  be  living  in  the  depth  of  this  forest,  far  from 
the  worry  of  the  world.  This  should  be  our  home,  this 
hunting-lodge  as  it  stands,  without  alteration  or  addition 
(only  my  little  wife  should  see  that  the  tea-things  were 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  473 

put  away  by  six).  Here  we  would  live  year  in,  year  out, 
perfectly  contented  with  one  another's  love,  perfectly 
happy,  rearing  our  little  ones" — he  fell  into  the  rever- 
ential tone  men  adopt  towards  their  unborn  offspring 

—  "to  become  brave  and  strong  and  true.     When  I  was 
a  disappointed  man,  not  so  long  ago,    over  in   accursed 
England,    I   imagined   nothing  could    be    worth    having 
except  fame.     The  night  I  saw  you  first,  I  added  you  to 
the  tale  of  things  I  longed  for.      Now  that  I  know  fame 
and  you,  I  want  you,  and  nothing  else." 

"Come,"  she  said  coldly,  "we  must  be  moving 
home." 

So  they  picked  their  way  homeward  among  the  dying 
leaves,  silent  and  fretful,  both  of  them.  The  Palace 
windows  shone  forth  a  welcome.  The  blaze  of  light 
hardly  served  to  increase  their  cheerfulness.  They  crept 
towards  the  private  door.  Muriel  pushed  through  first. 
They  went  together  by  the  rooms  which  had  formed  the 
private  suite  in  the  last  reign.  The  girl  surveyed  them 
with  no  friendly  eye.  Once  she  exclaimed  peevishly: 
"I  shall  do  away  with  this  circular  boudoir  when  I  am 

—  when  we  are  married." 


Chapter   VIIT 


The  Honourable  Charles  Mendril  sat  at  home  eating 
his  dinner  in  a  state  of  solitary  splendour.  He  was  also 
in  an  exceedingly  bad  temper.  For  thirteen  days  had 
he  been  brooding  upon  the  vagaries  of  royalty.  The 
Emperor  knew  him,  and  knew  that  he  proposed  to 
become  an  attache"  at  the  British  Embassy.  Why,  then, 
did  Majesty  forget  to  invite  him  to  Compiegne?  The 
Grand  Chamberlain — that  old  hypocrite  De  Morin,  with 
his  lies  and  his  grimaces  —  stood  equally  well  informed. 
Why  did  he  not  suggest  such  an  invitation?  Walter 
received  one.  He  needed  it  more  than  Walter.  He 
had  his  way  to  make  in  the  world:  not  but  that  he  felt 
competent  to  make  it  without  assistance  from  foreign 
potentates.  Still,  every  little  helps.  His  brother's 
case  went  on  altogether  different  legs.  His  path  stretched 
smooth  in  front  of  him,  right  up  to  the  gloomy  portals  of 
the  Mendril  Mausoleum.  Why  was  he  in  Paris  at  all, 
taking  the  bread  out  of  the  mouth  of  a  future  ambas- 
sador in  this  disgusting  way,  when  by  rights  he  ought  to 
be  engaged  in  giving  his  support  to  the  Ottery  hunt  or 
arranging  next  year's  fixtures  for  the  Tipton  Barmecides? 
Some  men  wanted  everything;  Walter,  among  them. 
He  enjoyed  the  reversion  to  the  title;  surely  he  might 
be  satisfied  with  that.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  selfish 
fellow  was  consumed  with  jealousy  lest  his  cleverer 
younger  brother  should  sprout  into  the  Lord  John  Rus- 
sell of  the  family.  Hence  his  abominable  behaviour. 
The  Honourable  Charles  hated  him  for  it. 

But  if  the  Honourable  Charles  detested  his  brother, 
what  must  the  Honourable  Charles  have  felt  towards 
his  sister?  To  begin  with,  she  was  a  miserably  useless 
girl.  Who  invites  miserably  useless  girls  to  Compiegne? 
But  the  conditions  under  which  that  invitation  has  been 

474 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  475 

given,  as  it  subsequently  appeared,  turned  this  absurdity 
into  a  disgrace.  Charles,  as  became  a  diplomat,  got 
wind  of  most  things  some  twelve  hours  after  everybody 
else.  The  scandal,  lately  arrived  in  Paris,  had  filtered 
through  to  him.  His  friends  at  the  Embassy,  full- 
budded  young  attaches,  and  nice  fellows,  though  unin- 
telligent, began  to  stop  dead  in  the  midst  of  exciting 
conversations  whenever  he  showed  his  face.  He  knew 
what  that  meant.  And  to  crown  all,  he  had  just  pro- 
cured yesterday's  Imperiale  and  had  digested  its  insulting 
leader  before  sitting  down  to  his  meal. 

The  Grub  Street  hack,  the  author  of  it,  knew  how  to 
sharpen  the  thorn.  The  reptile  actually  described  the 
young  lady  as  "of  good  birth  enough  for  ordinary  pur- 
poses." His  sister  "of  good  birth  enough  for  ordinary 
purposes"!  His  sister!  and  he,  who  intended  to  use 
diplomacy  merely  as  a  stepping-stone,  meant  to  be  the 
great  patrician  premier  of  the  twentieth  century! 
The  man  spoken  of  by  Macaulay,  sought  in  mar- 
riage by  princesses,  worshipped  by  all.  The  man 
who,  fearing  neither  his  own  order  nor  the  people, 
would  give  to  each  its  due.  The  man  who  would  steer 
the  ship  of  state  with  every  spar  intact  through  that 
terrible  tempest  which  is  to  devastate  this  planet  in  the 
course  of  the  next  forty  years,  and  which  will  most 
obligingly  overwhelm  a  few  political  leaders  and  kings 
and  emperors  and  nations,  in  order  to  set  off  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  Honourable  Charles.  "  Good  birth 
enough  for  ordinary  purposes  "!  But  what  can  you  ex- 
pect where  a  fool  of  a  girl  is  concerned?  She  would  drag 
them  all  through  the  mud  yet,  and  put  him  back  some 
five  years  in  his  career.  It  served  his  parents  right.  It 
came  as  a  meet  punishment  for  their  foolish  indulgence. 
Muriel  had  been  petted  and  spoilt  and  given  way  to  in 
everything  —  here  was  the  result.  If  it  broke  their 
hearts,  they  only  had  to  thank  their  own  stupidity.  As 
for  Walter,  the  Tipton  Barmecides  were  always  there  for 
him  to  fall  back  on.  But  the  thing  seemed  d — ish 
hard  on  the  Honourable  Charles  himself,  who  never  ap- 
proved this  visit  to  Compiegne,  and,  moreover,  had  his 
way  to  make  in  the  world.  It  was  worse  than  hard;  it 


476  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

was  criminal.  The  lot  of  them  went  their  own  selfish 
courses,  following  out  their  jealousies  and  —  and  —  and 
their  lusts,  never  remembering  that  it  was  their  chief 
duty  to  make  an  elegant  background  for  the  great  patri- 
cian premier  of  the  twentieth  century. 

But  the  task  would  be  unending  to  attempt  to  put  on 
paper  the  various  shapes  taken  by  his  ill-humour.  Those 
above  set  forth  are  a  feeble  sample.  For  the  rest,  face 
to  face  with  this  his  twelfth  solitary  steak,  his  mood  was 
blacker  and  his  heart  fuller  of  angry  hatred  than  it  had 
been  any  of  the  eleven  preceding  days  which  had 
elapsed  since  their  departure. 

A  servant  broke  in  diffidently  upon  his  reflections  to 
inquire  of  Monsieur  Charles  whether  my  Lord  returned 
that  night  from  England.  Monsieur  Charles  did  not 
know,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  say  so  without  any  of 
those  qualifications  to  ignorance  that  filial  anxiety  might 
have  been  expected  to  suggest.  The  words  had  scarcely 
left  his  lips  when  the  door  flung  open  and  Lord  Fram- 
lingham  appeared,  a  veritable  living  reply. 

The  Earl  bore  on  him  all  the  signs  of  travel.  Still 
enveloped  in  his  long  ulster,  a  rug  about  his  shoulders, — 
a  want  of  courtesy  which  Charles  bitterly  resented, —  he 
seemed  to  introduce  a  cold  whiff  of  the  Channel.  He 
looked  gloomily  at  the  wide  expanse  of  table-cloth. 

"So  you  have  the  place  to  yourself,"  said  he,  in  a 
voice  that  did  not  belie  his  looks. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  making  faithful  copy 
of  his  father's  manner,  and  not  leaving  his  steak  for  a 
single  instant;  "the  others  are  at  Compiegne. " 

"I  know,"  muttered  my  Lord.  "  Marc-Antonin,  a 
knife  and  fork.  He  flung  his  coverings  wearily  to  one 
side, — another  breach  of  decorum  which  jarred  consider- 
ably on  the  Honourable  Charles, — he  passed  his  hands 
through  his  hair  (yet  a  third),  then  seated  himself  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  table,  facing  the  patrician  premier  of 
the  twentieth  century. 

The  son  sat  moodily  drumming  his  fingers  on  his  plate, 
waiting  with  no  good  grace  until  his  father  should  be 
level  with  him,  and  they  might  start  fair  upon  the  pud- 
ding. Both  were  equally  taciturn. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  477 

"  There,  take  it  away,"  said  my  Lord  at  last  to  Marc- 
Antonin.  "  Well,  Charles,  you  may  congratulate  me. 
I  have  secured  the  appointment." 

The  young  fellow  thawed  at  once.  His  father  was 
not  such  an  incompetent  after  all.  He  would  throw  up 
the  attache"ship,  and  go  out  as  the  Viceroy's  private  sec- 
retary. Muriel  must  be  cut  adrift  as  quietly  and  speedily 
as  possible.  She  might  keep  her  Emperor,  and  the  whole 
of  France  as  well,  if  she  chose. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  father,  most  heartily.  Did  you 
have  any  serious  competitors?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know.  I  saw  the  Prime  Minister 
on  Monday,  and  he  told  me  that  he  had  submitted  my 
name." 

"When  do  you  start?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you."  My  Lord  did  not  partake  of 
his  son's  suddenly  acquired  eagerness  for  conversation. 
He  had  communicated  his  news;  that  was  sufficient.  "  I 
cannot  tell  you."  he  repeated  drily.  "Mr.  Rodenham 
does  not  know  himself.  There  seems  some  confusion  as 
to  the  date  from  which  Rocheberie's  resignation  is  to 
take  effect." 

"  Father,"  said  the  young  man  a  few  minutes  later, 
with  a  most  engaging  show  of  filial  diffidence. 

"Well?"  My  Lord  looked  fixedly  at  the  treacle  in 
his  coffee-cup.  This  reception  was  not  encouraging. 
Charles,  however,  persevered.  The  Viceroyalty  justified 
a  certain  amount  of  geniality,  even  though  it  went  unre- 
quited. 

"  Father,  I  want  to  throw  up  the  service."  He  ex- 
pected a  volley  of  surprised  remonstrances.  He  found 
himself  disappointed. 

"You  must  do  as  you  please.  But  may  I  ask  what  is 
the  meaning  of  this  new  move?  " 

"You  are  going  to  India.  That  is  a  better  chance 
for  me  than  vegetating  as  a  third  secretary  in  Paris  all 
my  life. " 

"  Oh,  that  's  it,  is  it?  I  am  afraid  Walter  must  have 
first  choice.  And  I  cannot  take  you  both. " 

"Why  not?  Walter  can  be  your  unpaid  secretary;  he 
doesn't  want  the  money." 


478  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  It  is  useless  asking  me  my  reasons.  I  should  be 
quite  glad  to  take  you,  my  dear  boy.  But  if  your  brother 
elects  to  come,  you  cannot.  Except  as  a  visitor,  of 
course." 

"I  suppose  Mr.  Rodenham  wants  the  place  for  one 
of  his  nominees,"  Charles  said  sulkily. 

"  That  is  not  your  business.  I  am  not  in  a  mood  to 
argue  the  matter.  You  must  therefore  kindly  desist." 

"  And  if  Walter  refuses?  " 

"Then  you  may  have  his  place.  I  should  advise  you, 
however,  to  stick  to  the  profession  which  you  have  chosen. 
No  man  ever  did  any  good  by  chopping  and  changing 
about." 

Here  was  the  Honourable  Charles's  opportunity.  He 
promptly  embarked  upon  that  topic  which,  of  all  others, 
he  always  found  the  most  fascinating. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  sir,  I  do  not  propose  to  make 
diplomacy  a  serious  profession.  I  want  to  stay  at  it  four 
or  five  years  to  acquire  a  little  experience  and  knowledge 
of  the  world,  and  then  I  shall  abandon  it  for  political 
life." 

"  Walter  will  have  my  interest  in  the  Honiton  divis- 
ion," said  the  Earl  cheerlessly. 

"I  do  not  expect  anything  else," — and  in  his  heart  he 
cursed  his  elder  brother.  "  Forgive  me  for  mentioning  it, 
there  are  other  constituencies  beside  the  Honiton  divis- 
ion."  This  was  carrying  coals  to  Newcastle  with  a  ven- 
geance, or  in  other  words,  treating  his  father  to  a  taste 
of  the  well-known  Mendril  chill.  "The  Mendrils  can 
be  very  severe  when  they  choose,"  was  a  frequent  say- 
ing round  about  Tipton-St.-John. 

His  father  made  return  with  another  celebrated  com- 
modity (not  quite  so  rare  as  the  other),  to  wit,  a  dose  of 
well-merited  parental  contempt. 

"  Do  n't  be  a  young  donkey.  Come  upstairs  to  the 
drawing-room.  Heigho!  I  am  dead  sleepy.  I  shall  get 
to  bed  betimes,  I  know.  I  was  at  Rodenham's  last  night 
until  close  upon  twelve  o'clock." 

A  single  flickering  jet  lit  patches  of  the  drawing-room. 
The  very  sight  chilled  them  to  the  bone.  "  Ugh !  "  cried 
his  Lordship,  withdrawing  his  head  the  second  after  he 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  479 

had  put  it  in,  "this  won't  do.  Let's  try  the  study. " 
They  tried  the  study;  but  the  Earl  had  not  been  expected 
home  till  Saturday.  The  library  was  no  better.  Charles 
did  not  possess  a  sitting-room, — an  additional  grievance 
in  the  eyes  of  this  much-aggrieved  individual.  At  last 
they  were  compelled  to  order  a  fire  in  Muriel's  boudoir, 
as  being  the  smallest  and  the  most  easily  warmed.  And 
they  sat  themselves  down  among  her  cushions  and  her 
knick-knacks  in  an  even  less  desirable  frame  of  mind  than 
heretofore. 

But  the  fire  burnt  up  brightly.  The  pink  shaded  lamp 
cast  a  softened  light  over  the  room:  it  illuminated  Lord 
Framlingham's  benign  countenance,  shining  down  upon 
them  from  over  Muriel's  mantelpiece.  The  Original  lit 
a  cigar  and  surveyed  his  likeness  thoughtfully.  The 
cheerful  surroundings  soon  took  effect.  "  I  shall  be  glad 
to  have  my  little  girl  home  again,"  he  murmured. 

The  younger  man  at  once  fell  in  with  his  softened 
mood.  "This  is  my  view,"  he  began  pompously,  apro- 
pos of  his  boots,  which  were  large,  and  patent-leather; 
"  if  a  fellow  has  no  expensive  tastes  and  a  fair  amount  of 
brains,  he  can  easily  manage  to  take  up  politics  as  a  pro- 
fession. After  all,  the  diplomatic  service  is  fearfully 
overdone.  I  might  remain  a  secretary  for  years,  and 
never  rise  above  a  legation  all  my  life.  Besides,  to  get 
a  decent  embassy,  one  must  have  a  private  income.  But 
if  one  has  a  private  income,  I  do  not  see  why  one  should 
not  try  the  House.  There,  at  least,  a  fellow  gets  a  fair 
field  and  no  favour;  and  provided  he  can  speak  and 
keep  his  head  cool,  he  will  go  far.  Now,  with  Aunt 
Mary's  legacy  and  my  allowance,  I  shall  have  sufficient 
for  my  modest  requirements.  What  I  mean  to  do  is  this : 
I  shall  throw  up  the  F.  O.  and  come  to  India,  either  as 
one  of  your  secretaries  or  in  a  private  capacity.  I  do  n't 
mind  which  it  is.  Indeed,  the  latter  for  preference. 
For  then  I  can  travel  about  and  study  the  Afghan  ques- 
tion, and  the  Pamirs,  and  native  matters  generally. 
Five  years  of  that  sort  of  thing  will  prove  invaluable;  it 
brings  a  man  to  the  front.  I  daresay  I  shall  get  the 
Times  to  insert  some  signed  articles  of  mine.  Rupert 
Gherkin  did;  and  he  is  only  a  year  senior  to  me.  I  shall 


480  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

return  home  and  put  up  at  once  for  Parliament.  Gher- 
kin will  help  find  me  a  seat.  He  says  there  is  still  plenty 
of  room  for  men  of  good  birth  who  have  the  gift — ahem 
— of  the  gab.  Look  how  he  has  got  on:  I  don't  find 
him  so  very  clever.  I  think  I  can  fairly  claim  to  be  a 
better  speaker.  My  Bright  recitation  at  the  Eton 
speeches  made  a  great  impression.  Who  was  the  old 
gentleman  who  had  heard  Bright,  and  who  said  that  mine 
surpassed  the  original?  I  always  got  full  houses  at  the 
Union.  And  the  fact  that  I  was  president  will  help  my 
candidature.  Gherkin  says  so.  Once  in  the  House,  I 
shall  go  dead  slow  ahead.  For  the  first  two  seasons  no 
one  shall  hear  the  colour  of  my  voice.  I  shall  be  assidu- 
ous at  committees  and  that  sort  of  thing;  and  I  sha'n't 
miss  the  tiniest  division.  To  do  that,  I  must  have 
a  small  flat  down  Westminster  way.  Of  course,  I  should 
prefer  to  live  at  home;  but  you  are  so  seldom  in  town, 
and  it  would  hardly  be  worth  while  keeping  the  house  up 
for  me.  I  mean  to  live  very  modestly, — make  the  draw- 
ing-room my  library,  and  that  sort  of  thing, — and  I 
never  intend  to  budge.  A  fellow  can  live  very  cheaply, 
provided  he  never  budges.  Honestly  I  believe,"  he 
ended  in  a  great  burst  of  triumph,  "  by  following  the 
life  I  have  sketched  out,  I  shall  become  a  great  Parlia- 
mentarian— of  course,  in  time." 

"  Of  course,  in  time,"  said  the  father.  And  this  was 
all  he  did  say;  for  his  son's  prophetic  autobiography 
had  sent  him  off  into  a  doze,  which  only  half  lifted  to 
add  this  dry  amen. 

Nothing  daunted,  the  Honour —  the  Right  Honourable 
Charles  proceeded  to  a  minute  description  of  his  daily 
life.  He  gave  the  hour  at  which  he  meant  to  rise;  what 
he  would  eat  and  drink  so  as  to  insure  the  greatest 
amount  of  work  from  a  body  that  was  to  be  kept  on  a 
minimum  of  sleep  and  exercise;  how  he  intended  to  map 
out  his  days;  and  half  a  hundred  points  connected  with 
regimen, — points  which  ambitious  youth  may  think  and 
write  about  in  their  diaries,  but  which  they  should  be 
careful  not  to  discuss  in  the  presence  of  elders:  it 
awakens  sad  memories.  From  the  tending  of  his  body 
he  passed  by  natural  and  easy  stages  to  a  forecast  of  his 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  481 

views  upon  political  questions.  How  he  proposed  to  be 
an  Imperialist  and  yet  not  a  jingo;  a  labour-man  full  of 
compassion  for  hardship  and  poverty,  but  in  no  way  a 
little  Englander  or  communist;  both  of  them  attitudes 
which  (as  he  was  careful  to  assure  his  father)  had  not  so 
far  been  successfully  assumed  by  any  leading  statesman. 
In  a  word,  every  one  was  to  make  himself  hoarse  acclaim- 
ing a  certain  process,  which,  before  the  Right  Honour- 
able Charles  Mendril,  M.P.,  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury, 
had  burst  into  the  firmament  to  remain  there  forever, 
like  the  moon  of  or  belonging  to  Joshua,  had  been 
known  by  the  less  complimentary  description  "facing 
both  ways."  Not  but  that  this  process  is  in  vogue  at 
present.  But  its  chief  exponents  rest  content  with  the 
loaves  and  fishes.  They  can  do  without  the  shouting. 

Thus  far  the  dreams  of  ambitious  youth.  The  Earl, 
provided  he  listened  at  all  to  these  outpourings,  must 
have  regretted  his  uniform  indulgence  towards  his  chil- 
dren. But  he  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard  a  word, 
save  for  a  single  glance  (made  with  contracted  pupils), 
which  may  be  credited  with  going  some  way  into  the 
young  man's  soul.  But  at  length,  in  the  midst  of  a  dis- 
sertation upon  the  decline  of  oratory,  my  Lord  took  upon 
himself  to  move  the  closure.  He  proposed  the  motion, 
and  carried  and  enforced  it,  at  one  swoop. 

"When  does  your  mother  return  from  Compiegne?  " 

"Saturday,  I  fancy.  They  don't  deign  to  tell  me 
the  actual  date.  They  appear  to  be  enjoying  themselves 
vastly." 

"It  is  the  end,"  soliloquized  my  Lord,  and  he  heaved 
a  sigh  of  satisfaction.  "Thank  heaven,  /we  shall  be 
gone  from  here  by  Christmas.  I  wonder  what  Muriel 
will  say  to  India,"  he  continued,  softly  smiling.  "She 
will  be  content  with  nothing  under  two  elephants,  I  '11  be 
bound,  and  tiger-hunts  by  the  dozen.  That  child  ought 
to  have  been  a  boy:  her  pluck  and  resolution  would  have 
fitted  her." 

"I  am  sure  I  wish  she  had  been  one,"  Charles  said 
angrily.  He  resented  any  tampering  with  his  prerogative. 

His  words,  no  less  than  the  manner  in  which  they 
were  uttered,  jarred  visibly. 


482  THE   FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  do  not  think  my  mother  ought  to  stay  two  weeks 
at  Compiegne.  People  are  commencing  to  say  unpleas- 
ant things." 

"  Unpleasant  things  about  whom?  Tell  me  at  once; 
I  insist  upon  knowing." 

Framlingham  had  sprung  out  of  his  lounging-chair. 
He  stood  glaring  down  at  the  patrician  premier.  The 
latter,  however,  was  no  coward.  His  sullen  temper, 
kindling  to  white  heat  under  these  menacing  gestures, 
forbade  retreat. 

"  I  will  tell  you.  You  need  not  stand  over  me  in  that 
theatri —  in  that  way.  Read  the  Imperiale  for  yesterday 
morning;  and  spare  me  the  sicken —  the  details." 

Lord  Framlingham  turned  and  tugged  at  the  bell. 
"Yesterday's  Imperiale!"  he  shouted.  Then,  when  it 
came,  he  thrust  the  paper  into  Charles's  hands. 

"Find  me  the  passage,  quick!  " 

He  read  it  through,  standing,  and  with  much  delibera- 
tion. Next,  sinking  once  more  into  his  chair,  fell  into 
musings  which  his  son  did  not  venture  to  disturb. 

"  Have  you  more  to  add?  "  he  asked  presently. 

"Only  the  merest  gossip." 

"  So  people  have  begun  to  gossip?  " 

"Yes,"  the  Honourable  Charles  was  fain  to  admit. 

"What  do  they  say?  " 

"They  say  that  the  English  visitors  at  Compiegne 
have  become  fixtures.  Also,  they  repeat  passages  from 
the  leader." 

"  Anything  else?  " 

"On  the  boulevards  they  begin  to  call  him  'the 
Englishman.'  I  don't  recollect  anything  else — oh 
yes—" 

"Well?" 

"I  was  at  the  theatre  Tuesday:  I  heard  a  man  re- 
mark that  '  Milord  '  was  too  wise  to  show  up  at  the 
betrothal." 

"  Continue." 

"  The  curtain  went  up  and  I  heard  no  more." 

My  Lord  dragged  his  chair  up  to  the  fender  to  huddle 
over  the  fire.  Charles  could  scarce  endure  the  silence 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  483 

that  ensued.  In  a  way  it  frightened  him:  he  had  looked 
for  quite  other  results  from  his  communication. 

He  was  squat  and  sallow  and  blotchy,  was  Charles, 
and  of  a  sanguine  temperament;  and  his  main  object  at 
present  was  to  shelve  this  unpleasant  matter  with  the 
least  possible  delay.  Muriel  had  got  herself  into  a 
questionable  position;  she  had  caused  them  to  be  talked 
about;  and  had  made  his  chosen  career  impossible. 
Very  well,  she  might  go  the  whole  hog.  After  all,  the 
"whole  hog"  was  not  so  very  disagreeable.  She  would 
have  plenty  to  eat  and  drink,  and  good  clothes  and  a 
nice  house.  An  affectionate  brother  could  surely  sur- 
vey her  future  without  justifiable  concern.  As  for 
himself — well,  the  mishap  had  its  uses.  He  preferred 
India,  in  any  case.  His  sister's  liaison  with  an  emperor 
would  invest  the  whole  family  with  a  mysterious  prestige, 
besides  accounting  for  that  expression  of  deep-seated 
melancholy,  which  was  to  be  a  noticeable  trait  of  his 
when  he  became  First  Minister  of  the  Crown. 

Accordingly,  what  the  Honourable  Charles  wanted 
was  an  outburst  of  passionate  wrath  that  should  sweep 
up  all  the  Framlingham  belongings  now  in  France, 
Muriel  excepted,  and  transport  them  then  and  there  to 
Government  House,  Calcutta.  But  this  brooding  and 
shivering  over  the  fire?  At  no  time  ought  a  strong  man 
to  shiver  and  brood;  least  of  all  when  the  occasion 
called  for  immediate  action.  It  called  so  now.  The 
Honourable  Charles  had  settled  the  whole  thing  in  his 
own  mind:  the  offending  member  must  be  promptly 
lopped  off. 

He  did  hope  that  there  was  to  be  no  "  strong  arm  " 
business;  no  hand  held  out  to  succor  stumbling  feet;  no 
retreat  which  carried  all  its  wounded  with  it.  He  had 
small  patience  with  such  folly,  followed,  as  it  would 
most  assuredly  be,  by  the  jeers  of  Europe,  and  subdued 
garments  and  an  interesting  convalescence  at  Simla. 

So  he  broke  into  a  string  of  querulous  murmurings. 

"  I  must  say,  it  shows  a  great  want  of  consideration, 
to  get  us  all  talked  about  in  this  way.  I  do  not  mind  so 
much  for  myself,  but  it  is  confoundedly  hard  on  you  and 
mother.  She  really  should  remember  what  she  owes  to 


484  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

you  two,  and  to  Walter  and  to  me.  But  I  foretold  as 
much.  Girls  are  so  silly  and  thoughtless.  I  do  n't  sup- 
pose she  means  any  harm,  but  she  is  like  the  rest  of 
them.  And  this  is  the  pretty  pass  to  which  her  want  of 
thought  has  brought  us;  our  name  derided  by  every 
har —  lounger  on  the  boulevards!  It  is  monstrous! 
Mother  must  bear  most  of  the  blame.  She  ought  never 
to  have  gone.  And  Walter — what  can  he  have  been 
thinking  about  all  this  time?  Had  I  been  there,  and 
seen  this  trouble  arising,  I  should  have  put  my  foot  down 
pretty  promptly.  Yes,  even  if  the  need  had  come  to 
beard  Majesty  himself.  Though,  mind,  I  should  have 
approached  him  in  a  very  politic  manner.  '  Sire ',  I 
should  have  said,  '  pardon  my  presumption.  What  is 
fun —  amusement  to  you  is  death  to  my  sister.  I  owe  it 
to  my  father  and  to  my  own  future  to  see  that  this  fool- 
ishness goes  no  further.  We  may  not  be  emperors,  but 
we  are  strong  enough  to  defend  the  honour  of  a  kins- 
woman.'  He  would  not  need  any  more." 

"For  heaven's  sake  spare  me  more  of  that  rubbish. 
Be  a  good  son  and  hand  me  over  the  time-table.  No," 
he  groaned,  running  his  eye  along  the  top  of  the  page 
leading  to  Compiegne,  "there  is  no  reaching  there  to- 
night. Better  so,  I  suppose;  it  would  only  make  matters 
worse." 

"You  are  going  there  to-morrow?  "  the  son  asked 
dubiously. 

"  By  the  first  train. ' ' 

"Ah.     I  shall  be  off  to  bed.     Good-night,  father." 

"  Good-night,  my  boy.     Sleep  well. " 

The  fire  burnt  all  the  brighter  for  the  departure  of 
the  Honourable  Charles.  The  pink-shaded  light  pursued 
its  even  course  without  faltering;  and  Muriel's  father, 
surrounded  by  her  pictures  and  her  treasures,  let  his 
mind  wander  off  some  few  months  forward  to  a  certain 
realm,  whereof  the  ruler  might  and  would  love  his 
daughter  without  scandal  or  reproach. 


Chapter    IX 


The  morning,  however,  brought  a  number  of  obstacles, 
all  of  which  had  to  be  surmounted  before  Lord  Framling- 
ham  could  get  to  the  Gare  du  Nord.  There  were  let- 
ters from  Mr.  Rodenham  and  the  India  Office,  requiring 
detailed  and  separate  and  immediate  replies.  At  eleven, 
an  English  prince,  travelling  southward,  put  in  an  appear- 
ance and  stayed  an  hour.  Threpps  followed.  The  British 
Ambassador,  having  heard  of  his  predecessor's  good  for- 
tune, had  dropped  in  to  ask  for  a  little  advice.  He  gave 
place  to  Louis  de  Murinac,  who  had  come  up  all  the  way 
from  Avize  to  request  his  brother-in  law  to  send  him  an 
eye-witness's  account  of  Pondicherry,  to  form  a  colonial 
appendix  to  his  magnum  opus.  So  it  was  past  lunch-time 
before  the  Earl  departed,  and  quite  dark  when  he  stepped 
out  onto  the  threshold  of  the  Palace.  The  Grand  Cham- 
berlain happened  to  be  crossing  the  Salles  des  Armes  as 
he  arrived.  The  old  fellow  started  back  in  pleased  sur- 
prise. Then  he  proceeded  to  welcome  him  warmly, 
clasping  both  his  hands  within  his  own. 

"Here  you  are  at  last,"  he  cried.  "  Thirteen  days 
late  and  just  in  time  to  take  leave;  but  here  all  the  same. 
His  Majesty  will  be  glad  to  see  you.  My  lady,  as  well; 
indeed,  all  the  guests:  we  do  n't  get  many  viceroys  down 
at  Compiegne.  This  way,  your  Excellency.  They  are  all 
of  them  in  the  forest.  Simple  country  pleasures,  you  see, 
— early  to  bed,  early  to  rise,  and  plenty  of  healthy  exer- 
cise and  nourishing  food.  Ah,  this  must  be  Madame's 
room.  Empty,  you  observe.  They  shall  know  of  your 
arrival,  directly  they  return.  But" — and  De  Morin 
dropped  his  voice  in  deep  sorrow — "the  party  breaks  up 
on  Saturday.  Only  two  nights  at  Compiegne — you,  the 
most  honoured  guest!  Your  dear  ones  have  benefited 

485 


486  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

by  the  change  to  a  marvellous  degree.  You  are  bound 
to  notice  it.  Muriel  looks  charming.  I  must  not  inter- 
fere with  you  a  minute  longer.  I  am  so  overjoyed  to 
see  you,  really  I  cannot  help  chattering." 

By  this  time  the  Chamberlain  had  got  my  Lord  well 
into  the  centre  of  his  wife's  apartments.  With  his  eyes 
resolutely  fixed  on  the  latter  nobleman's  face  he  backed 
himself  out  of  the  room,  closing  the  door  gently,  but 
also  very  firmly.  Perhaps  he  feared  lest  this  welcome 
and  long  looked  for  guest  might  burst  forth  to  scour  the 
Palace  in  rather  too  premature  a  fashion. 

His  presence  of  mind  met  its  fitting  reward.  He  left 
Madame's  threshold  to  stumble  upon  the  vanguard  of 
the  returning  guests,  a  group  of  cheerful  and  simple 
foresters,  still  busy  with  the  beauties  of  the  late  sunset, 
and  the  marvels  of  the  health-giving  air.  Prehlen  came 
first,  his  hand  lovingly  on  Lord  Mendril's  shoulder:  the 
Ambassador  was  talking  about  the  cholera.  Lady 
Threpps,  bereft  of  her  lord,  Madame  Pontecoulant  and 
Lady  Framlingham,  followed  close  upon  their  heels. 
De  Morin  was  able  to  touch  my  Lady's  arm.  She  started ; 
and  he,  making  no  attempt  to  hide  his  great  anxiety, 
whispered  her  that  the  Earl  had  come.  She  was  a 
woman  of  ready  comprehension  and  some  spirit.  She 
did  not  delay  to  thank  him  for  his  warning,  but  went  off 
straightway  to  beard  this  lion  in  her  den. 

De  Morin,  on  his  side,  made  direct  for  the  Imperial 
library.  He  found  Godefroy  hovering  about  the  thresh- 
old, who  informed  him  that  the  Emperor  had  not  budged 
since  noon.  Napoleon  sat  at  his  desk  writing  assidu- 
ously. He  did  not  appear  to  relish  the  old  gentleman's 
intrusion.  He  motioned  him  silently  to  a  chair.  Then, 
having  searched  the  ceiling  for  vanished  threads,  resumed 
his  task.  "Scratch,"  "scratch,"  ran  his  ready  pen; 
filled  sheets  littered  his  desk,  and  even  bathed  his  boots. 
He  looked  pale,  and  worried,  and  full  of  energy. 
Presently  he  put  his  name  with  a  final  dash  at  the  foot 
of  a  page,  and  laid  his  pen  upon  the  rack,  gratefully 
sighing.  He  gathered  up  his  precious  documents,  sorted 
them,  tied  them  into  a  neat  bundle,  and  locked  them 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  487 

away.  Only  then,  after  these  separate  processes  were 
duly  completed,  did  he  turn  to  inquire  the  other's  busi- 
ness. 

"Sire,  the  Earl  of  Framlingham  is  here." 

The  Emperor  reddened.  Against  his  will  he  red- 
dened; and  being  conscious  of  it,  reddened  even  more. 

"  I  hope  you  have  made  him  very  welcome,"  said  he, 
with  much  unconcern.  "I  fear  his  visit  to  Compiegne 
will  be  exceedingly  short." 

"  His  stay  in  France  will  not  be  much  longer.  I  hear 
for  certain  that  he  has  got  his  appointment.  A  few 
weeks  hence,  he  and  his  belongings  will  be  gone.  Really 
it  is  a  great  opportunity.  My  master  will  thus  be 
able  to  escape  from  an  embarrassing  situation  before  it 
is  too  late.  The  young  lady  has  not  been  over-prudent 
during  the  last  few  days:  she  must  suffer  for  her  im- 
prudence. Happily  the  price  won't  be  very  terrible. 
Not  one  man  in  a  thousand  knows  her  name.  It  is  no 
shame  to  win  a  man's  love;  the  shame  comes  later. 
Thank  God,  you  have  been  spared  that.  The  whole  in- 
cident may  now  be  satisfactorily  terminated.  You  can 
both  feel  that  it  contains  nothing  but  what  does  honour 
to  the  hearts  of  either." 

Napoleon's  sole  response  was  a  gratified  smile  be- 
stowed upon  the  drawer  where  lay  his  mysterious  pa- 
pers. De  Morin  followed  it,  but  hardly  understood;  and 
Majesty  contented  himself  with  a  little  digression  upon 
the  exalted  nature  of  the  office  to  which  the  Earl  had 
been  appointed. 

'  'As  Viceroy-designate  he  must  receive  the  very  highest 
attention  from  myself  downwards.  Therefore,  my  ven- 
erable friend — "  he  stopped  abruptly:  he  recollected  at 
that  moment  De  Morin's  suspicious  dealings  with  the 
Eurasian. 

Without  a  moment's  reflection,  heeding  neither  his 
promise  to  Carache,  his  obligations  towards  the  Cham- 
berlain, nor  his  own  self-respect,  he  plucked  at  the 
portable  bell  hanging  from  his  chair.  The  sound  which 
summoned  Godefroy  must  have  taken  its  touch  from 
Napoleon's  fears:  the  valet  came  hurrying  in.  The  old 


488  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

gentleman,  meanwhile,  lay  dozing  peacefully  in  his  arm- 
chair by  the  window.  These  domestic  interruptions 
never  interested  him. 

But  Majesty's  first  word  sufficed  to  wake  him. 

"Stand  by  me,"  he  said  to  the  domestic,  very,  very 
gravely,  beckoning  the  latter  to  a  position  at  his  right 
hand.  The  Emperor's  left  was  against  the  corner  wall. 
The  broad  desk  lay  in  front;  while  a  waste-paper  basket 
from  Bindings  guarded  his  legs. 

Thus  girt  in,  he  turned  upon  the  delinquent  minister; 
a  look  of  great  severity  covering  his  mobile  countenance. 

"Monsieur  de  Morin,  I  have  to  perform  a  very  pain- 
ful duty.  So  painful  that  I  will  go  directly  to  the  point. 
What  has  Nadez  been  doing  down  at  Compiegne? " 

The  Count  never  faltered.  "  It's  all  that  confounded 
Carache,"  he  murmured  to  himself. 

"  Of  course,"  he  added  out  loud,  "you  desire  a  candid 
answer? " 

"  Of  course." 

"And  you  can  spare  the  time  for  a  tedious  recital, 
which,  moreover,  ends  in  nothing?" 

"I  want  the  truth,"  the  Emperor  said  tartly. 

"I  will  give  it  you.  But  first,  may  I  beg  a  chair  for 
Monsieur  Godefrdy?  " 

"I  prefer  to  stand,"  interposed  the  faithful  fellow. 
He  had  already  grasped  his  role  in  this  little  drama.  He 
was  the  trusty  body-guard.  Any  minute  might  see  the 
need  of  flinging  himself  on  that  venerable  old  gentleman 
opposite,  at  present  engaged  in  picking  his  teeth  with 
his  eyeglass-cord,  and  of  bearing  him  away  to  the 
deepest  dungeon  Compiegne  possessed. 

"The  whole  thing  is  simple  enough,"  began  the 
Count.  "  The  ministers  are  perfectly  right;  I  have  seen 
a  deal  of  Nadez  lately.  Both  he  and  Prince  Felix  were 
with  me  in  the  chateau  here.  But  let  me  add  this  much, 
my  first  interview  with  the  Eurasian  was  at  Carache 's 
own  request." 

"How  am  I  to  believe  that?"  cried  Napoleon. 

"Listen,"  said  De  Morin,  at  this  point  proceeding  to 
examine  his  cord  against  the  light  with  great  interest; 
"you  shall  hear  the  whole  story.  One  afternoon,  about 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  489 

a  month  ago,  the  Premier  called  upon  me  at  the  Elyse"e, 
and  with  a  great  show  of  mystery  asked  my  help  and 
counsel.  He  informed  me  that  his  creature,  the  Prefect, 
had  put  his  finger  upon  the  beginnings  of  a  plot  against 
your  Majesty.  He  mentioned  a  number  of  names,  Nadez 
among  them.  Now  you  must  believe  me  when  I  tell 
you  that,  before  that  afternoon,  I  had  never  exchanged 
a  single  word  with  this  Eurasian,  nor  so  much  as  seen 
him — at  least,  not  to  my  knowledge.  I  knew  his  name: 
who  does  not?  Monsieur  Godefroy  will  bear  me  out  in 
saying  that  he  has  a  world-wide  notoriety?  " 

But  Godefroy  was  not  to  be  cajoled  by  such  eager 
flattery.  He  stared  straight  in  front  of  him,  and  kept  his 
mind  fixed  upon  the  deepest  dungeon. 

"The  conspiracy — and  herein  lay  Carache's  difficulty 
— was  not  against  the  Empire,  but  only  against  the  Em- 
peror. According  to  his  myrmidons,  it  resolved  itself 
into  an  Imperialist  plot  to  dethrone  your  Majesty  in 
favour  of," — and  De  Morin,  "  too  full  for  sound,"  satis- 
fied himself  with  shaping  his  silent  lips  into  the  name, — 

"in  favour  of .  He  and  his  brother  and  his  sister, 

Carache  felt  convinced,  were  privy  to  the  Eurasian's 
plans.  They  might  not  go  all  the  way  with  Nadez;  but 
they  were  bent  on  getting  you  out  of  France.  The  Pre- 
fect rather  gathered  that  you  were  to  be  abducted  across 
into  Switzerland,  under  the  pretence  that  you  had  fled 
before  a  dossier  on  its  way  from  England  to  prove  that 
you  were  an  impostor." 

"I  like  their  insolence,"  shouted  Napoleon. 

"Ah,  wait.  These  were  merely  vague  suspicions. 
Carache  did  not  pretend  otherwise.  And  he  desired  my 
assistance  to  turn  belief  and  mere  conjecture  into  cer- 
tainty. He  flattered  me  on  my  position  in  Bonapartist 
circles." 

"I  see  it  all,"  cried  Majesty.  "Godefroy,  you  may 
leave  us  " :  a  command  which  the  interested  butler  con- 
sidered uncalled  for. 

"  I  see  it  all.     To  oblige  Carache — " 

"Say  rather,  to  oblige  my  master." 

"To  oblige  me  you  consented  to  become — to  be- 
come— " 


490  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"One  of  the  Prefect's  myrmidons;  quite  so, "  said  De 
Morin  drily.  "  Nadez  wanted  to  enlist  prominent  Bona- 
partists.  What  Bonapartist  more  prominent  than  humble 
me? — that  was  the  pretty  way  he  put  it.  '  Hold  yourself 
out  to  Nadez;  and  Nadez  will  jump.  Take  Felix  as  a 
sucking  pig,  if  you  think  it  advisable.'  I  did  hold  my- 
self out  to  Nadez;  I  did  take  Felix  as  a  sucking  pig; 
and — as  Carache  had  predicted — Nadez  did  jump." 

"And  his  Highness?"  Napoleon  asked,  thinking  of 
Auteuil  and  the  allegorical  picture. 

"The  crocodile  has  kept  him." 

"  But  why  does  Carache  now  turn  against  you?" 

"  Simple  enough.  I  have  performed  his  mission  only 
too  well.  I  found  that  his  factotum's  suspicions  con- 
cerning their  Royal  Highnesses  were  totally  unfounded. 
Not  a  single  Imperialist  except  myself — and  the  sucking 
pig — has  even  been  approached." 

"Thank  God  for  that,"  ejaculated  our  hero. 

"You  may  well  say  so.  Nadez  still  hopes  to  give  his 
intrigues  that  complexion.  Indeed,  I  am  commissioned 

to  sound  Prince ,"  once  more  that  silent  pantomime 

with  the  lips,  "but  hitherto  I  have  been  too  busy.  But 
failing  his  Highness,  I  understand  that  Felix  is  to  take 
your  place." 

"The  little  viper." 

"We  have  forgotten  Carache.  Naturally,  he  felt 
annoyed  to  find  that  his  built  up  theories  were  worthless. 
He  wanted  me  to-  rectify  the  blunder — to  simplify  mat- 
ters, if  you  please.  Of  course  I  refused.  Then  he 
demanded  that  I  should  wash  my  hands  of  the  business; 
consider  my  mission  at  an  end,  so  to  speak.  But  Nadez 
has  grown  too  fond  of  me:  our  friendship,  I  fear,  will 
last  till  his  ugly  head  tumbles  into  the  basket.  And  if  I 
have  come  to  know  more  than  Carache  and  his  spies,  am 
I  not  entitled  to  use  my  knowledge?  The  thing  lies  in 
a  nutshell:  the  foxy  fellow  wants  no  one  but  himself  to 
serve  my  Lord." 

"  How  base  of  him." 

"  Carache  is  base.  What  can  you  expect?  His  father 
was  a  wholesale  druggist." 

"  He  shall  hear  what  I  think  of  him,"  bridled  the  other. 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  491 

"  I  should  n't.  He  does  not  mean  any  harm.  If  you 
adopt  my  advice,  the  next  time  he  mentions  me,  just  you 
say,  'Oh,  the  Count  De  Morin,  he's  all  right.'  That'll 
show  him  that  we  have  had  a  chat  about  this  business. 
He  won't  touch  the  tooic  any  more." 

"Is  Nadez  such  a  very  diabolical  person?"  asked 
Napoleon. 

"  I  have  found  him  very  gentle  and  pleasant.  But  he 
certainly  is  mischievous.  He  does  n't  like  you  at  all. 
I  think  he  means  business  this  time." 

"Curse  him!  Why,  in  God's  name,  cannot  he  stay 
and  plot  in  his  own  country?  " 

"  That  would  be  to  jeopardize  the  Viceroy  of  India," 
suggested  the  Chamberlain. 

"  He  sha'n't  jeopardize  anyone  any  further,"  cried 
the  Emperor.  "You  shall  see  to  it.  You  have  my  order 
to  secure  him  and  lodge  him  in  gaol." 

"  How  can  I  possibly  execute  it?  I  have  no  police 
under  my  command:  the  Prefect  won't  give  me  much 
help,  you  may  rely  on  that." 

"Telegraph  my  orders  to  Carache.  Say  that 
the  whole  gang  are  to  be  under  lock  and  key  by  mid- 
night." 

"I  obey,"  said  De  Morin;  but  he  did  not  look 
convinced. 

"At  once,"  insisted  his  master;  "these  wild  beasts 
shall  not  remain  at  large  another  day." 

Napoleon  met  his  guests  that  night  with  a  light  heart. 
His  interview  with  De  Morin  had  convinced  him  of  his  own 
sagacity  and  resolution.  If  he  could  grapple  thus  with  a 
dangerous  conspiracy,  surely  he  might  consider  himself 
determined  enough  to  wed  the  betrothed  of  his  choosing. 
Carache,  no  less  than  Nadez,  should  taste  of  his  iron  will. 
Consequently  this  last  of  those  Compiegne  gatherings 
went  better  than  its  curious  composition  might  have  led 
one  to  expect. 

To  see,  for  instance,  M.  Prehlen  with  his  arm  on  Lord 
Framlingham's  shoulder,  no  one  could  have  suspected 
that  he  meant  to  rob  my  Lord  both  of  his  satrapy  and  his 
daughter's  only  means  of  escape.  De  Morin  and  the 
Countess  seemed  inseparable;  and  the  Emperor  made 


492  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

overtures  to  his  prospective  father-in-law  which  he  prided 
himself  were  completely  successful. 

Their  first  meeting,  truly,  somewhat  hung  fire.  While 
the  guests  were  still  awaiting  their  host  and  dinner,  the 
Viceroy-designate  had  ensconced  himself  in  a  moody 
corner  far  from  Prehlen,  far  from  his  wife  and  daughter. 
The  Emperor  singled  him  out  on  entering,  and  made 
straight  towards  his  loneliness. 

"Welcome,  my  Lord,"  he  cried,  getting  tight  hold  of 
both  the  other's  hands;  "welcome  to  Compiegne.  Were 
you  not  able  to  show  so  good  a  cause  of  absence,  we 
should  hardly  forgive  you  your  tardy  arrival.  As  a  near 
neighbour  and  friend,  may  I  be  allowed  to  congratulate 
you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart?  " 

The  viceregal  head  bent  low  between  the  viceregal 
hands  still  held  by  Majesty;  but  the  thunder-clouds 
lingered. 

Monsieur  Prehlen  appeared  opportunely  to  help  dis- 
perse them. 

"Here  comes  his  Excellency,  bursting  to  add  his 
own.  Is  it  not  so,  Monsieur?  " 

"  I  have  ventured  to  anticipate  your  Majesty.  I  have 
already  proffered  my  felicitations  to  our  dear  friend." 

"  You  must  make  the  best  of  your  chance,"  Napoleon 
rushed  on,  wishing  to  heaven  that  the  Viceroy  would 
smile.  "We  sha'n't  have  our  dea —  the  Earl  with  us 
long." 

"  Alas,  no. " 

"You  two  ought  to  be  able  to  settle  the  Persian 
question." 

"  We  have  nearer  and  dearer  matters  than  that  to 
talk  about,"  said  the  Norwegian  with  an  affectionate 
look  at  Framlingham.  What  could  the  latter  do  but 
respond?  Napoleon  laughed  as  well. 

The  Earl  had  found  his  wife  perfectly  serene  and 
sensible.  She  admitted  willingly  that  there  had  been 
imprudence  somewhere.  She  seemed  overjoyed  to  get 
back  home  under  his  conduct.  On  his  part  he  reflected 
that  there  was  a  good  train  to  town  about  eleven  next 
morning;  also  that  a  fortnight  at  most  would  see  them 
clear  of  France  forever.  So  he  smiled  a  second  time; 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  493 

while  his  hands  (still  in  the  Imperial  grasp)  became  a 
little  less  fishlike  before  they  dropped  away.  It  was 
peace. 

All  through  dinner,  and  in  the  drawing-room  after- 
wards, the  Emperor  did  naught  but  propitiate  this  ex- 
alted Englishman,  who  responded  at  least  with  deference. 
Napoleon's  positive  reward  came  from  another  quarter. 
A  smile,  embarrassed  indeed,  and  with  a  trace  of  pain, 
but  unmistakably  grateful,  reached  him  whence  he  valued 
it  most.  Alas,  it  was  the  first  token  of  recognition  since 
— since  yesterday.  The  last  as  well.  His  gaze  kept 
seeking  her  face  in  vain.  It  frightened  him  to  see  how 
wan  she  looked,  and  wearied.  Her  grey  eyes,  clear  and 
steady  still,  were  wistful  as  he  had  never  known  them. 
His  heart  filled  anew  with  overwhelming  compassion. 
He  longed  to  draw  her  into  his  protection.  His  protec- 
tion! And  he  had  made  it  that  she  was  weary  and  wan, 
and  looked  forth  upon  the  world  with  wistful  eyes.  No 
matter.  The  wedding  should  be  very  grand  and  make 
amends.  India  proved  a  fruitful  topic.  Napoleon  could 
not  leave  it.  It  satisfied  a  very  genuine  impulse  of  his 
soul  to  speak  about  that  mysterious  East  which  had 
swallowed  up  so  many  of  his  friends. 

Monsieur  Prehlen  handled  it  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  cholera,  and  the  Roof  of  the  World.  The  English 
Ambassadress  got  her  innings  last. 

"My  dear  Lord  Framlingham,"  she  said,  a  winsome 
smile  corrugating  her  face,  "I  am  going  to  ask  a  very 
great  favour  of  you." 

She  did  not  notice  that  she  had  intercepted  this  much- 
worried  satrap  on  his  way  across  the  drawing-room  to 
his  own  daughter,  with  whom  he  had  not  exchanged  a 
single  word. 

Whenever  my  Lord  was  not  precisely  overjoyed,  he 
passed  both  hands  through  his  hair.  It  served  as  a 
storm-cone  among  those  who  knew  him.  He  did  so 
now. 

"  Your  Ladyship  has  only  to  name  it." 

"How  good  of  you — how  really  good  of  you,  dear 
Lord  Framlingham.  Threpps  " — she  called  him  Threpps 
behind  his  back — "  always  declares  that  you  are  one  of 


494  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

the  most  amiable  of  men.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much 
I  thank  you. " 

"  What  may  the  service  be?  " — this  very  tartly. 

"I  want  you  and  Lady  Framlingham  to  be  so  very 
obliging  as  to  ask  my  brother  to  Government  House 
sometimes.  He  has  been  in  India  three  years,  you  know; 
and  such  a  piece  of  kindness  from  you  would  help  him 
very  much,  dear  Lord  Framlingham." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  obey  so  sisterly  an  injunction. 
He  is  in  the  civil  service? — the  young  fellow  is  lucky  to 
be  stationed  at  Calcutta." 

"  No,  I  am  afraid  he  has  nothing  so  good.  Poor 
Douglas  never  worked  very  hard.  Papa  was  always 
scolding  him.  He  does  very  well,  all  things  considered. 
He  is  a  tea-planter  in  Cachar.  They  work  him  hard 
enough  now,  I  can  assure  you.  An  occasional  Saturday 
to  Monday  down  at  Calcutta  will  brighten  the  dear  boy 
up  immensely. ' ' 

"The  library  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Honore  contains 
some  capital  books  about  India, — geographical,  espe- 
cially," the  Earl  replied  with  a  faint  smile  and  not  too 
much  gallantry.  "  Your  Ladyship  has  noticed  them?  " 

"Oh,  dear  yes,"  clasping  her  hands.  "Geography 
has  always  been  a  favourite  study  of  mine.  At  home  in 
Surrey,  more  particularly  in  winter,  when  the  days  were 
short  and  the  country  too  disagreeable  for  anything,  I 
used  to  devour  books.  Papa  and  mamma  were  both 
most  anxious  that  we  girls  should  have  a  fair  knowledge 
of  the  history  and  geography  of  our  land.  Threpps  is 
quite  surprised  at  my  learning.  Why,  I  run  him  close  in 
his  favourite  study,  modern  French  history.  You  will 
admit  it  is  difficult.  Threpps  declares  it 's  nothing  but 
skeleton  outline."  "Hush — my  dear  young  lady, "  re- 
monstrated Framlingham.  Pontecoulant  had  caught 
her  last  remark,  and  stood  glaring. 

"Well,  he  is  right,"  she  pouted.  "  I  agree  with  him. 
I  can  beat  him  at  it." 

"And  me  too,  no  doubt;  though  it  used  to  be  my 
favourite  subject  also." 

"No,  no,  no.  That's  one  of  your  compliments.  I 
am  sure  you  are  very  clever;  you  silent  men  are  always 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  495 

clever.  And — and — if  you  will  forgive  my  saying  so  — 
one  can  always  tell  from  a  man's  face." 

"Your  Ladyship  flatters  me." 

"  No,  I  do  not.  We  women  can  judge  character. 
Take  his  Majesty,  for  example.  Well,  really  it  needs  no 
discernment  to  tell  his.  If  I  were  to  meet  him  in  a  Lon- 
don crowd,  shabbily  dressed  and  with  all  the  marks  of 
poverty  about  him,  I  could  tell  him  at  once  for  a  great 
man.  Do  look  at  his  square  jaw,  those  steady  lips,  that 
massive  forehead.  Can't  you  read  the  iron  will.  /  call 
him  far,  far  greater  than  Napoleon  I — the  founder,  you 
know,  the  great  Emperor  who  took  Sedan  and  defeated 
Bismarck  and  Don  Carlos  at  Canossa;  at  least  I  think  I 
am  right,"  she  added  dubitatively. 

"  I  understand  whom  you  mean,"  said  my  Lord. 

"Well,  I  call  him  greater  than  that  one, "  she  tran- 
quilly resumed.  "And  as  for  Napoleon  III  (the  one 
who  was  massacred  at  Ulundi,  you  know;  massacred  by 
the  Mahdi,  or  the  Negus,  or  some  of  those  wretches,  you 
know),  well,  one  must  not  mention  the  two  men  in  the 
same  breath." 

"And  yet  his  present  Majesty  never  did  anything  at 
the  English  bar.  Report  says  that  he  came  to  France  in 
despair  of  ever  earning  a  livelihood  there." 

"  Pooh — he  had  other  things  to  occupy  him." 

"Aha,  my  Lord,"  cried  Prehlen,  bustling  up  to  renew 
a  conversation  which  had  been  broken  off  not  ten 
minutes  ago,  "what  a  thousand  pities  you  missed  our 
charming  excursion  this  afternoon.  Her  Ladyship  has 
been  telling  you  about  it?  No — well,  I  am  within  an 
ace  of  telling  you  myself.  I  refrain ;  do  not  look  startled. 
But,  in  truth,  the  forest  shows  so  beautiful  of  these 
winter  days.  I  perspire  poetry  when  I  find  myself 
among  those  God-given  trees,  a  matting  of  twigs  and 
moss  to  silence  my  feet,  and  here  and  there  above  me 
patches  of  the  emerald  dome." 

"How  beautiful,"  cried  the  Threppsess,  "and  how 
true.  Monsieur  Prehlen,  you  are  a  poet;  I  can  read  it  in 
your  face." 

Monsieur  Prehlen  patted  his  chestnut  beard. 

"I  write,"  he  said  deprecatingly. 


496  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Monsieur  Ponte"coulant  came  up  at  that  moment,  and 
my  Lady  transferred  her  attentions.  His  Excellency  the 
Russian  Ambassador  seized  the  opportunity. 

"My  Lord  Framlingham,  a  word  with  you." 

The  other  groaned;  he  also  cast  a  wistful  glance  at 
the  corner  where  his  wife  and  the  Chamberlain  sat 
gaily  talking,  with  one  other  just  behind  them  altogether 
silent. 

"  It  is  in  connexion  with  what  we  were  saying  just 
now." 

"  The  beauties  of  the  forest." 

Prehlen  laughed.  "What  humour!  What  genuine 
humour!  'The  beauties  of  the  forest' — really  you  are 
too  funny.  You  remind  me  of  a  favourite  aunt  of  mine — 
dead  now,  poor  creature,"  and  he  stopped  and  cudgelled 
his  brain  to  remember  whether  he  had  told  Lord  Fram- 
lingham already  of  Ottilia's  demise:  he  chanced  it — 
"dead  now;  but  in  life  full  of  dry  humour.  No,  I  refer 
to  what  we  said  about  India.  Why  should  n't  we  divide 
Afghanistan?  It  's  a  nasty,  dirty  place,  and  a  nuisance 
to  both  of  us.  Geographically,  it  tempts  partition.  The 
Gool  Mountains  cut  us  beautifully  in  two.  Guznee  and 
Kandahar  to  you ;  Kabul  and  Herat  to  us.  You  keep 
the  Shahzada." 

"I  am  not  authorized  to  listen  to  any  such  arrange- 
ment," replied  the  Earl,  drawing  himself  up  stiffly. 
"Were  I  so  authorized,  my  answer  to  your  proposition 
would  be,  'Thank  you  for  nothing.'  " 

"The  Helmund  for  a  barrier,  you  retaining  Herat!  " 
whispered  Prehlen,  winningly  eager.  "Come,  the  Hel- 
mund is  fair  enough." 

"  I  can  only  assure  you  a  second  time  that  I  am  not 
authorized  to  open  this  matter,"  persisted  the  English- 
man, making  every  outward  sign  of  excessive  distaste 
for  the  subject  reconcilable  with  politeness.  At  home, 
such  a  manifestation  would  have  sufficed  to  change  half 
a  dozen  subjects.  But  Monseiur  Prehlen  shifted  his 
course  for  no  one. 

"  There,  I  think,  you  make  your  grand  mistake,"  said 
he,  fingering  one  of  my  Lord's  buttons.  "You  English 
are  all  alike.  '  Oh,  we  are  not  authorized  to  do  that,' 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  497 

'We  have  no  instructions  to  talk  about  this,'  you  say; 
and  your  country  suffers  in  consequence.  Now,  we  Rus- 
sians do  n't  wait  for  instructions.  No  one  has  given  me 
any  orders  to  partition  Afghanistan.  Indeed,  the  idea 
of  partition  never  entered  my  head,  until  I  saw  you  this 
evening.  Then  at  once  I  said  to  myself,  '  How  can  I 
turn  his  Excellency's  presence  to  the  best  account? — 
Good,  we  will  permanently  solve  the  Asiatic  frontier 
question  on  the  basis  of  a  partition  of  Afghanistan. ' 
You  observe,  we  are  discussing  the  partition.  To-mor- 
row, we  shall  get  half  an  hour  over  maps  in  your  room; 
and  with  a  few  more  meetings,  we  shall  have  agreed  a 
draft  division.  I  use  the  future  tense,  you  perceive : 
your  Excellency  is  going  to  be  wise  and  concur.  This 
agreement  I  at  once  post  off  to  St.  Petersburg  without  a 
syllable  of  introduction.  '  Her  Britannic  Majesty's  Vice- 
roy-designate of  India  and  myself,'  I  shall  write,  'have 
decided  to  partition  Afghanistan  as  a  permanent  solution 
to  the  Anglo-Russian  frontier  difficulties.  You  will  please, 
therefore,  occupy  the  northwestern  half  of  that  country 
to  the  River  Helmund.  Her  Britannic  Majesty  retains 
the  Shahzada. '  My  government  will  forward  my  instruc- 
tions intact  to  the  general  commanding  the  Merv  dis- 
trict, who  will  obey  them." 

Lord  Framlingham  could  not  keep  back  a  smile. 
"  Suppose  my  people  are  not  equally  complaisant?  Take 
it  they  repudiate  our  little  convention, — what  then?  " 

"Oh,  that's  simple  enough,"  Prehlen  remarked 
modestly.  "  We  get  the  lot. " 

"  I  thought  as  much.  Alas,  I  fear  I  cannot  accom- 
modate you  this  time." 

"  You  are  wrong,"  warned  Prehlen.  "  Our  way  is  far 
the  wisest.  Do  you  suppose  we  should  have  pushed  our 
legions  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  if  we  had  waited  for 
orders?  You  never  waited  for  orders  when  you  were 
great — in  your  palm —  I  mean,  in  the  days  when  you  were 
building  up  your  empire.  But  take  time.  I  sha'n't 
regard  anything  as  final  to-night.  Take  time ;  and  send 
me  a  post-card  to  the  Embassy  on  Monday." 

It 's  a  long,  long  way  from  the  Helmund  to  domestic 
matters.  Framlingham,  with  his  eyes  from  time  to  time 


498  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

turned  to  where  his  wife  and  the  Chamberlain  sat  chat- 
ting gaily,  yearned  to  be  allowed  to  span  it. 

The  "inside"  of  De  Morin's  conversation  was  not 
quite  so  light-hearted  as  its  appearance.  He  kept  to 
undertones  that  were  very  necessary:  Muriel  sat  just 
behind  her  mother. 

"And  your  husband?     Tell  me  everything." 

"About  what?  I  found  him  reading  his  letters  in 
front  of  my  fire.  He  kissed  me  very  warmly — for  him." 

"  Henriette,  be  serious.  You  do  not  suppose  he  is 
ignorant.  Did  he  not  reproach  you  for  your  impru- 
dence? " 

"Why  in  the  world  should  he?  Look  at  the  child  at 
this  moment;  by  her  mother's  side,  you  see.  And  that 
has  been  her  place  during  our  whole  stay.  It  is  not  our 
fault  if  people  talk." 

"You  spoke  very  differently  the  other  day." 

"I  was  altogether  wrong.  Muriel  gave  me  the  most 
satisfactory  explanation.  She  had  fallen  in  with  the 
Emperor  by  accident.  The  tears  in  his  eyes  were  caused 
by  excessive  laughter:  he  had  been  telling  her  one  of 
Godefroy's. " 

"My  dear  child,  it  's  no  use  your  trying  those  fibs 
with  me." 

Madame  flushed,  and  fanned  herself  violently.  But 
she  did  not  speak. 

"When  do  you  leave  Paris?  "  De  Morin  went  on. 

"I  really  cannot  say." 

"Soon,  I  fear.  Heigho,  seven  years  go  slow.  I  shall 
be  gone  when  you  return." 

"  It  may  not  be  seven  years,"  she  replied,  with  a  sig- 
nificance that  did  not  miss  fire. 

"  Seven  is  the  usual  number?  " 

"  I  do  n't  know.     Please  do  not  catechize  me." 

"Your  husband  naturally  is  overjoyed?  " 

"We  have  hardly  spoken." 

"  He  was  here  at  six?  " 

"  He  went  off  at  once  to  look  for  the  children." 

De  Morin  scraped  his  chin: 

"  Was  he  pleasant  with  Muriel?  " 

"  How  can  I  say?  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  do  not  believe 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  499 

he  even  found  her.  She  and  Nicholas  got  back  much 
after  the  rest.  Muriel,  have  you  spoken  with  your  father 
yet?  " 

"  No,  mother." 

De  Morin  leaned  forward  to  look  at  her.  Her  face, 
her  voice,  her  attitude,  told  him  everything.  He  glanced 
sharply  from  daughter  to  mother.  The  elder  woman 
was  smiling  across  at  Nicholas. 

"Ah,  Henriette, "  he  murmured,  real  pity  in  his  voice, 
"  if  only  you  had  left  earlier." 

"Walter,  you  know,"  she  replied  with  great  com- 
posure, "  has  left." 

"I  noticed.      Why?  " 

"  He  volunteered  to  carry  an  urgent  message  for  his 
father.  He  is  a  dear,  amiable  boy;  always  ready  to  do 
an  act  of  kindness." 

"Indeed?" 

"Surely  you  have  found  that  out, — you  who  know  us 
all  so  well?  " 

"  Naturally." 

"  Charles  is  just  the  same;  only  of  course  the  dear 
boy  is  not  so  favourably  situated  as  Walter.  You  see  he 
has  his  way  to  make  in  the  world." 

"  I  understand  perfectly." 

"  So  he  is  a  little  over-anxious.  I  tell  him  he  has  no 
need.  A  young  man  of  his  appearance  and  abilities  is 
sure  to  succeed.  His  aim  is  to  become  Prime  Minister 
of  England.  I  think  he  makes  a  mistake.  He  ought  to 
enter  French  political  life,  where  his  sister  would  be  able 
to  assist  him." 

It  was  not  possible  that  she  could  know  all.  In  her 
eyes,  surely,  Muriel  still  had  everything  to  give,  and 
might  name  her  price.  And  he  leaned  forward  a  second 
time  to  survey  this  poor  young  creature.  Her  face,  but 
not  her  gaze,  was  lifted  and  slightly  flushed.  Her  parted 
lips  were  striving  to  murmur  a  welcome  that  remained 
obstinately  voiceless.  He  turned;  her  father  was  ap- 
proaching. De  Morin  rose  and  moved  away. 

The  girl  looked  timidly  up.  She  saw  alone  the  edge 
of  my  Lord's  beard  moving  with  gentle  words.  She 
faltered  on  the  brink  of  tears. 


500  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"Where  has  my  little  girl  been  hiding?  I  have  done 
nothing  but  search  for  her  the  whole  evening." 

"  Have  you,  father?  "  she  murmured. 

He  seated  himself  beside  her,  and,  altogether  care- 
less of  the  assembled  company,  took  her  lifeless  fingers 
between  his  own.  The  change  of  position  had  its  ad- 
vantages. Her  averted  gaze  was  no  longer  so  conspicu- 
ous; although  with  her  hand  within  his  loving  grasp  she 
felt  again  that  fearful  need  of  tears. 

"I  have  great  news,"  continued  my  lord.  "I  want 
this  wise  little  brain  to  advise  me  on  a  number  of  mat- 
ters,"— he  passed  a  hand  lightly  over  the  drooping  head. 
Napoleon  noticed.  As  for  my  Lady,  who  hemmed  Muriel 
in  on  the  other  side,  she  began  to  shuffle  her  feet  and 
her  beautiful  shoulders.  There  were  some  demonstra- 
tions which  even  she  could  not  endure. 

"  You  and  I,  my  little  one,  have  often  talked  about 
India.  We  are  going  there  at  last. " 


Chapter  X 


Muriel  moved  the  shadow  of  an  inch  nearer  her 
mother. 

"  Your  mother  and  I  find  that  we  can  leave  Paris  by 
to-morrow  week.  What  does  my  little  girl  say?  Re- 
member, we  shall  get  over  a  month  in  London.  She  can 
do  all  her  shopping  there.  I  hope  she  means  to  accom- 
modate her  fond  old  father." 

"  Does  mother  really  say  that  we  can  leave  Paris  next 
week?  " 

My  lady  began  to  fan  herself  violently.  "I  meant 
provided  nothing  unexpected  happened,"  she  cried, 
looking  askance  at  her  husband. 

"  What  unexpected  event  could  happen?  "  he  snarled, 
frowning  down  at  the  circle  of  floor  just  in  front  of  the 
Countess's  feet.  "The  Paris  shops  won't  help  you.  It 
will  hardly  need  five  days  to  shut  up  the  house.  I  mean 
to  try  and  let  it." 

"It  is  my  house,"  Madame  retorted.  "You  have 
no  right  to  do  anything  of  the  kind."  But  the  Earl  was 
not  to  be  drawn  into  this  time-worn  quarrel.  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  then  turned  once  more  to  Muriel 
with  softened  eyes.  She  had  fallen  back  into  her  former 
apathy.  Explanations,  she  felt,  were,  for  the  moment, 
quite  impossible.  Her  poor,  dear,  kind  old  father  must 
be  suffered  to  go  on  building  his  castles.  She  felt  no 
great  desire  to  shatter  them  before  it  became  absolutely 
necessary.  Indeed,  of  all  the  terrors  passing  through 
her  brain,  this  was  the  most  strongly  defined  and  the 
most  persistent, — the  burning  wish  that  no  frightful  bar- 
rier kept  her  from  laying  her  head  upon  her  father's 
breast. 

"Mr.    Rodenham  gave  me  a  little  present  for  you. 


502  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

He  had  a  lot  of  photographs  of  Calcutta, — it  seems  that 
he  went  out  there  to  deliver  a  course  of  lectures  when  he 
was  a  young  man, —  and  he  thought  you  might  like  a  lit- 
tle glimpse  beforehand  of  your  future  home.  They  are 
ancient,  certainly;  twenty-five  years  old,  I  think  he  said. 
But  many  of  them  are  still  fairly  faithful ;  and  he  hopes 
you  won't  value  them  any  the  less  for  their  age." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  him." 

"I  told  him  you  would  feel  flattered.  I  say,  Muriel," 
and  he  bent  forward  in  an  attitude  of  playful  mystery, 
"I  know  some  one  who,  if  he  were  only  thirty  years 
younger,  would  be  wanting  to  deprive  me  of  my  little 
girl.  He  never  sees  me  but  he  asks  after  you." 

Muriel  shuddered.  Mr.  Rodenham, — the  English 
Premier's  face  and  figure  rose  vividly  before  her,  press- 
ing themselves  into  ruthless  comparison  with  that  other, 
her  betrothed  and  her  betrayer.  Mr.  Rodenham, — the 
shabby,  shuffling  man,  with  rugged  features  and  eager 
eyes;  the  man  who  cared  naught  for  pomp  or  parade  of 
power,  who  went  to  court  in  a  second-hand  Windsor 
uniform,  used  in  a  Savoy  opera  and  bought  at  the  thea- 
trical costumier.  He  had  risen  to  the  top  by  sheer  grit, 
not  by  chance.  He  had  never  dreamt  of  the  great  things 
he  meant  to  do. 

"  Here's  another  point  for  my  little  counsellor.  That 
second  brother  of  yours  has  suddenly  made  up  his  mind 
that  he  does  not  want  to  go  into  the  diplomatic  service. 
He  means  to  give  us  the  benefit  of  his  companionship 
upon  our  journey.  He  evidently  expects  me  to  take  him 
as  my  secretary.  I  am  resolved,  however,  to  let  Walter 
have  the  refusal.  He  needs  the  experience  every  bit  as 
much  as  Charles;  and  you  know  how  indolent  he  is.  Now, 
do  you  think  I  ought  to  make  him  come,  even  if  he  does 
not  want  to?  Or,  would  the  place  be  of  more  value  to 
Charles,  in  any  case?  I  want  to  do  the  best  by  both  of 
them;  but  they  are  difficult  young  cubs  to  manage. 
Come,  little  woman." 

"  I  am  afraid  the  boys  would  hardly  like  me  to  inter- 
fere." 

"  Nonsense.  They  sha'n't  know.  Have  I  not  a  right 
to  consult  whom  I  choose?  If  either  of  them  would  deign 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  503 

to  talk  sense,  I  should  be  glad  to  listen.     Both  of  them, 
however,  are  quite  incompetent;  especially  Charles." 

She  smiled  faintly.  "  He  would  not  like  to  hear  you 
say  so." 

"  I  daresay  not.  One  would  credit  a  man  of  his  age 
with  more  sense  than  to  be  everlastingly  talking  about 
himself.  He  made  me  very  angry,  last  night." 

"  Did  he,  father?  " 

"Bah,  do  not  let  us  trouble  more  about  him,"  said 
my  Lord  a  trifle  inconsistently.  "  Who  is  to  be — Walter 
or  the  other  one?  " 

"I  really  cannot  say." 

"  We  will  ponder  it  over,  and  give  "em  our  decision 
by  and  by." 

"One  more  point,"  resumed  the  Earl  presently,  and 
with  a  sudden  change  to  grave  significance  which  could 
leave  no  doubt  that  this  was  his  alpha  and  omega  on 
a  distasteful  subject,  impossible  to  disregard  altogether, 
"and  then  we  can  get  to  tigers  and  elephants  and 
Eastern  palaces.  How  soon  will  you  be  ready  to  start 
for  Paris,  to-morrow?  " 

"  I  can  be  ready  very  early,"  she  murmured. 

"Good,  that  is  settled."  Henriette,  you  will  please 
teM  your  maid  that  we  leave  by  the  quarter  past  nine. 
Ha,  his  Majesty  has  withdrawn.  Come  Henriette. 
Come  dearest";  and  then,  under  his  breath,  "thank 
God,  the  end  of  these  miserable  evenings." 

With  Muriel's  arm  tight  within  his  own,  he  led  the 
way  to  Madame's  room.  Madame  herself  followed  be- 
hind. Her  savage  looks,  lavished  indiscriminately  on 
both  relatives,  showed  how  she  resented  this  slight  to  her 
dignity.  At  the  door  the  girl  drew  back,  murmuring  a 
low  good-night.  She  longed  to  escape  the  infliction  of 
further  tenderness.  "  Good-night? — why,  child,  it  is  not 
yet  ten.  You  are  going  to  stay  and  talk  to  me  a  little. 
I  have  many  things  to  say,  which  I  could  not  even 
whisper  in  that  miserable  drawing-room." 

She  had  to  obey;  but  her  reluctance  increased  ten- 
fold when  she  discovered  that  her  mother  had  already 
slipped  through  into  the  inner  room,  the  bedroom  of 
the  suite.  The  communicating  door  stood  ajar,  and 


504  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Muriel  caught  an  occasional  sight  of  their  maid  bending 
over  boxes.  But  even  this  poor  companionship  was 
presently  denied  her.  An  unseen  hand  softly  swung  it 
to;  the  next  minute  she  could  hear  Madame  scolding 
Marie.  She  understood  at  once.  Lord  Framlingham 
pressed  her  into  an  easy-chair  which  stood  upon  one 
side  of  the  fire.  He  himself  sank  gratefully  into  its 
opposite  companion.  Father  and  daughter  were  face 
to  face. 

"This  is  delightful,"  he  said,  and  he  sighed  con- 
tentment. The  room,  with  its  exquisite  tapestry,  and 
the  generous  fire  that  filled  the  open  grate,  looked 
bright  indeed.  A  lamp  directly  behind  Muriel's  chair 
enveloped  her  in  a  blaze  of  light.  He  had  not  placed 
her  there  designedly.  God  knows,  there  lay  no  purpose 
in  his  heart  to  probe  her  with  questions  and  watch  her 
face.  Not  she  herself  shrank  more  genuinely  from  all 
further  mention  of  this  terrible  business  (it  was  terrible 
to  him,  little  as  he  knew).  She  herself  could  not  yearn 
more  eagerly  to  have  it  altogether  forgotten.  And  they 
were  forgetting  it.  That  is  why  he  looked  across  at  her 
with  such  benevolence,  sighing  contentment. 

She  muttered  that  the  heat  of  the  fire  was  unendur- 
able, and  moved  to  another  chair. 

''Your  young  bones  take  less  to  warm  them.  All 
you  children  are  icy  mortals.  I  wonder  whom  you  get 
it  from;  I  love  a  roaring  fire.  That's  the  one  thing 
which  made  me  hesitate  about  India.  Old  Rod  —  Mr. 
Rodenham  has  got  hold  of  the  idea  that  the  Viceroy 
ought  to  spend  more  of  his  time  down  at  Calcutta.  He 
complains  that  the  authorities  are  too  fond  of  Simla. 
It  makes  our  less  fortunate  countrymen  jealous;  many 
of  them  in  that  way  acquire  a  distaste  for  their  own 
districts.  It  is  one  of  his  fads.  The  Viceroy,  in  his 
view,  should  endure  the  same  rigours  as  every  one  else. 
Certainly,  he  does  not  spare  himself,  when  you  come  to 
think  that  he  has  never  occupied  Downing  Street,  but 
clings  to  that  beastly  Edmondton  as  though  he  loved  it. 
I  told  him  I  was  quite  willing.  Only  one  can  get  fires  in 
Simla,"  he  laughed.  "The  thing  is  amusing,  is  it 
not?  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  505 

She  did  not  so  much  as  smile.  She  knew  that,  before 
they  parted  this  evening,  she  would  have  to  tell  her 
father  everything.  On  his  side,  he  never  doubted  that 
his  persistent  good  humor  would  at  last  bear  fruit. 

"Finally  we  agreed  that  I  was  to  have  two  months 
out  of  the  twelve.  I  have  to  make  a  tour  through 
Burmah  in  March,  so  I  shall  save  this  month's  allowance. 
In  that  way  we  shall  get  four  months  next  year;  won't 
that  be  pleasant?  " 

"  Very  pleasant." 

"Another  thing  Rodenham  told  me  amused  me  very 
much.  We  were  talking  about  a  native  mission  school 
up  in  the  Northwest,  which  has  been  giving  Rochberie 
a  deal  of  trouble.  The  point  lies  in  a  nutshell.  Two 
years  ago  the  board  appointed  a  new  head  master,  a 
Manchester  man,  who  appears  to  be  a  person  with  some 
ideas.  Last  Easter  he  issued  a  circular  saying  that 
there  were  too  many  excellent  religions  in  the  Empire 
for  him  to  take  upon  himself  to  choose  for  the  boys. 
Therefore,  each  pupil  would  be  allowed  to  go,  from  the 
age  of  entering  the  school  to  eighteen,  without  religious 
instruction.  The  board  is  in  hysterics.  The  Secretary 
of  State,  more  suo,  is  generous  enough  to  leave  the 
matter  entirely  to  me.  Rodenham  won't  help  me.  All 
he  did  was  to  say  that  it  reminded  him  of  a  former  high 
court  judge,  who  managed  the  bankruptcy  work.  This 
legal  luminary  had  the  same  plan  as  the  man  from 
Manchester.  When  his  eldest  son  reached  maturity, 
and  the  serious  question  was  put  to  him,  the  lad  replied, 
'  If  you  please,  father  ' — Rodenham  insists  that  he 
said  '  My  Lord ' — '  if  you  please,  I  should  like  to 
be  the  same  religion  as  the  Official  Receiver.'  It  is  a 
funny  story;  don't  you  think  so?"  She  didn't;  but 
she  smiled  wearily.  Any  one  who  loved  her  less  dearly 
must  have  seen.  Lady  Framlingham  bounced  in,  mut- 
tering; seized  her  writing  materials,  which  littered  the 
table,  and  bounced  out  again.  Her  husband  waited  till 
she  was  gone,  then  he  delivered  his  last  attack. 

"You  and  I,  little  one,  will  assuredly  keep  a  diary. 
You  take  charge  of  the  scenery  and  the  social  events 
and  the  amusing  things,  while  I  can  manage  the  dry 


506  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

parts,  politics  and  statistics,  you  know.  If  we  do  it 
well,  we  shall  easily  find  a  publisher.  And  the  proceeds 
shall  go  to  the  Sidmouth  Infirmary.  Won't  that  be 
delightful?  " 

Her  sole  reply  was  a  sob,  which  she  could  not  stifle. 
The  bedroom  door  had  not  been  shut  after  the  last 
irruption:  it  widened  ever  so  slightly. 

"Father,   .   .   .   I  have  something  terrible  to  tell  you." 

"My  darling  child,"  stretching  forward  to  take  her, 
"you  mustn't  distress  yourself  like  that.  I  know  all 
that  you  can  tell  me;  and  I  mean  to  forget  it.  You 
must  forget  it  also." 

She  passed  from  sobs  into  hysterical  weeping.  She 
buried  her  poor  face  in  her  bent  arm,  all  the  while  shak- 
ing a  passionate  negative  to  what  he  said. 

He  leaned  over  her,  with  one  arm  round  her  huddled 
shoulders.  "  My  darling  Muriel,  please  do  n't  cry,  my 
darling.  You  do  n't  think  I  blame  you,  do  you?  You 
are  only  a  child.  It  was  a  shame  to  bring  you  here," 
and  my  Lord  glowered  at  the  softly  moving  door. 

She  quieted  a  little  under  his  gentle  words. 

"But  I  have  come  back  to  look  after  my  little  one. 
She  and  I  mean  to  put  an  end  to  all  this  silly  chatter 
about  a  union  between  her  and  a  certain  nameless  per- 
sonage. " 

She  lifted  her  tear-stained  face.  He  would  not 
suffer  her. 

"  Tut,  tut,  you  are  not  going  to  be  a  little  goose  any 
longer.  Naturally  that  nameless  personage  vows  he 
loves  us,  and  all  that  sort  of  nonsense.  Possibly  he 
does;  but  we  do  n't  love  him,  and  there  's  an  end  of  the 
business.  Only  this,  if  he  does  love  you  as  much  as  no 
doubt  he  avers,  he  would  have  been  more  careful  of  your 
reputation.  No,  no,  dearest,  I  am  not  blaming  you; 
do  n't  begin  again,  I  beseech  you,  my  darling." 

"Oh,  father,"  she  whispered,  "he  does  love  me; 
he  has  told  me  so  a  hundred  times." 

"  Then  he  is  a  greater  coward  than  I  thought.  Well, 
let  him  love  you,  if  he  chooses.  It  cannot  hurt  you — at 
a  distance.  But  he  sha'n't  marry  you.  For  one  thing, 
I  can't  spare  my  little  girl.  And  Muriel,"  he  went  on, 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  507 

leaving  that  playful  manner  which  would  keep  bursting 
through  the  clouds,  "you  do  not  know  what  a  narrow 
escape  you  have  had. "  He  could  feel  how  she  trembled : 
the  moment  was  propitious,  much  as  he  hated  the  topic. 
He  waxed  even  more  impressive. 

"Love,  I  do  not  doubt,  came  easily  enough  to  his 
tongue.  These  adventures  are  every-day  concerns  with 
men  of  his  high  rank.  He  is  unmarried:  no  one  will 
think  the  worse  of  him,  how  many  lives  may  strew  the 
path  of  his  desires.  But,  my  darling  daughter,  you  do 
not  need  that  I  should  speak  about  the  victims.  I  would 
rather  see  my  little  one  in  her  grave  than  spared  to  such 
a  fate.  Yes,  a  thousand  times;  even  though  I  had  to 
kill  her." 

Small  wonder  she  shivered. 

He  felt  a  rough  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"For  goodness  sake,  be  quiet,"  cried  Madame; 
"you  will  send  the  poor  child  into  a  fit." 

He  did  not  condescend  to  notice  this  interruption. 
He  drew  his  daughter  closer  to  him  and  enfolded  her 
within  a  passionate  embrace.  Then  he  rose  and,  taking 
his  stand  in  front  of  the  fire,  still  gazed  benignly  down 
at  this  poor  little  shipwrecked  form. 

"So  much  for  that,"  said  he,  blowing  it  away; 
"peace  be  to  its  ashes.  None  of  us  have  been  entirely 
blameless;  so,  like  wise  folk,  we  will  forthwith  and 
evermore  forget  it.  Look  up,  my  daughter;  let  me  see 
you  smile  ";  but  Muriel  could  not.  She  had  missed  the 
chance  of  making  her  confession,  and  she  still  sat  a  heap 
of  huddled  misery. 

Madame  entered  the  lists.  She  took  her  stand 
directly  behind  her  daughter's  chair — touching  sight! 
signifying,  as  it  did,  a  wealth  of  maternal  protection. 

"I  presume  you  mean  that  Muriel  is  to  banish  all 
thought  of  his  Majesty  from  her  mind." 

"Certainly  I  do. "' 

"  Then  let  me  tell  you  that  you  are  doing  them  both 
a  very  serious  wrong." 

"  Pish,  Henriette,  do  not  be  a  fool." 

"  How  dare  you  speak  to  me  like  that?  "  she  retorted 
savagely.  "  I  repeat,  if  you  come  blundering  in  between 


508  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Muriel  and  his  Majesty,  you  will  do  the  young  couple  an 
irreparable  injury." 

"I  daresay  his  Majesty  will  survive  it,"  said  he, 
mimicking  her  ceremony. 

"  You  boor! " 

Husband  and  wife  stood  glaring.  It  looked  as 
though  the  unspoken  hatred  of  many  years  was  about  to 
burst  at  last. 

"Muriel  and  I  understand  one  another,"  he  cried, 
now  at  white  heat.  "We  do  not  ask  for  your  interfer- 
ence; you  have  already  done  enough  harm." 

Madame  clenched  her  delicate  hands:  her  face  went 
from  white  to  purple. 

"I  shall  not  bandy  rudenesses  with  you,  my  Lord.  If 
you  force  Muriel  to  India  against  her  will — " 

"Against  her  will?  Why,  Muriel,  you  are  only  too 
glad  to  come? " 

"Oh,  father,  I  am  not  able;  I  am  not  able." 

"What  does  this  folly  mean?" 

"  Muriel,  may  I  tell  your  father?  " 

The  sole  answer  was  a  groan  which  could  have  but 
one  meaning.  It  even  told  my  Lady  a  little  more  than 
she  already  knew.  But  she  had  a  brave  heart,  had  my 
lady;  she  did  not  falter. 

"The  Emperor  has  offered  her  his  hand.  Our  dear 
daughter  has  accepted." 

"You  fools!  you  fools!"  almost  shrieked  her  hus- 
band, "have  you  neither  of  you  more  sense?  Cannot 
you  see  that  such  a  marriage  would  be  impossible? " 

"  Why  should  it  be  impossible?  Muriel  is  as  well  born 
as  the  late  Empress?  " 

"  My  poor  child,"  once  again  bending  tenderly  over 
his  daughter,  "the  mischief  has  gone  deeper  than  I 
suspected.  Do  you  really  imagine  he  means  all  this 
foolishness?  " 

"Yes,  father,  I  am  sure  of  it,"  very  eagerly. 

"And  do  you  love  him?  " 

"Yes,  father,"  but  with  rather  less  decision. 

"And  it  will  be  a  terrible  wrench  to  be  parted  from 
him? " 

She  did  not  answer;  but  her  heart  was  beating  with 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  509 

hope  refreshed.  Alas,  it  was  refreshed  to  a  bitter  dis- 
appointment. 

"Make  up  your  mind  to  this,  my  daughter,  he  can 
never  marry  you.  You  are  not  quite  an  idiot,"  this 
last  with  an  angry  look  to  his  wife, — "  so  I  won't  stop  to 
explain  why.  And  you,  my  darling,  will  accept  my  word. 
We  won't  give  way  to  any  more  silly  fancies,  will  we? 
We  are  going  to  be  brave,  and  worthy  of  the  fond  old 
father  who  is  so  proud  of  us?  " 

She  could  endure  no  more.  "  Oh,  father,  forgive 
me,"  she  cried  in  a  burst  of  hysterical  passion.  "I 
would  come  with  you,  indeed  I  would;  but — but,  it  is 
too  late!  " 

He  looked  down  at  her  vacantly.  "Too  late? — too 
late?  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"Mother,  cannot  you  help  me?"  But  the  Countess 
remained  resolutely  silent. 

There  was  no  further  need  for  words.  The  scales 
had  fallen  from  his  eyes  at  last. 

"You  have  allowed  yourself  to  be  deceived  by  his 
lying  promises?  You  have  surrendered  your  honour  into 
his  hands?  "  he  asked  at  length  with  a  deliberation  that 
seemed  even  more  frightful  than  the  foregoing  silence. 

She  did  not  answer. 

"And  you  really  suppose  that  he  will  marry  you? " 

"He  has  sworn.  Father,  dear  father,  don't  despise 
me.  He  has  sworn." 

"You  poor  deluded  creature,  you  have  given  him  all 
he  ever  wanted.  His  promise  will  never  get  another 
thought.  Were  he  the  most  honourable  man  in  all  the 
world, — which  he  is  not, — did  he  still  love  you  as  much 
as  he  averred  before  this  crime  of  yours, — which  is  im- 
possible,— yet  he  could  never  marry  you.  Take  this 
as  certain;  my  experience  may  be  your  guide." 

"Experience!"  sneered  Madame.  "Your  precious 
experience  did  not  prevent  you  from  being  turned  out  of 
the  embassy.  I  might  have  known  that  you  would  have 
come  blundering  in  just  at  the  critical  moment.  If  only 
Muriel  and  I  could  be  left  alone,"  and  Madame  flung  up 
her  arms,  mingling  a  gesture  of  defiance  and  despair, 
"all  would  yet  be  well.  Napoleon  loves  her  madly. 


510  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

This  evening  he  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  off  her 
face.  She  is  not  the  first  who  has  given  her  future 
husband  this  mark  of  her  love  and  confidence.  Why 
should  n't  the  marriage  take  place?  All  the  ministers 
are  in  favour  of  it;  his  Majesty  has  said  so  himself.  Of 
course  if  you  come  shrieking  out  your  miserably  foolish 
tirades,  waking  up  the  whole  Palace,  Napoleon  will  be 
disgusted,  and  might  be  tempted  to  back  out." 

"It  is  my  own  fault,"  said  the  Earl,  softening  his 
voice  and  leaving  Madame  to  simmer;  "I  ought  to  have 
come  directly  I  got  word  that  you  had  gone  to  Com- 
piegne  against  my  express  wishes.  I  did  wrong  to  leave 
you  amid  so  much  temptation  with  no  better  guard  than 
this  shallow-hearted  woman.  But  she  is  your  mother;  I 
did  imagine  that  your  chasti —  that  your  honour  would 
be  safe  in  her  keeping.  I  never  questioned  it;  and — 
and — oh!  Muriel,  I  believed  in  you.  No,  no,  we  are  to 
blame;  we,  your  wretched  parents;  not  you,  my  foolish 
little  one.  We  are  to  blame,  and  it  is  for  us  to  repair 
the  mischief  as  best  we  can." 

Both  women  brightened.  My  Lord  consulted  his  watch. 
"Eleven,"  he  muttered,  "we  have  ample  time.     Call 
your  maid." 

The  servant  appeared:  she  had  only  that  minute  risen 
from  strapping  the  last  box.  My  Lord  despatched  her  to 
fetch  my  Lady  Muriel's  travelling  clothes — her  boots,  and 
the  garments  she  came  in,  and  her  hat  and  ulster.  The 
maid  had  orders  likewise  to  return  with  one  of  the 
Palace  servants. 

She  returned  with  no  less  a  person  than  Godefroy 
himself.  Both  Muriel  and  her  mother  thought  at  first 
that  he  had  brought  comforting  assurances  from  the 
enemy.  His  first  words  undeceived  them. 

"  This  young  lady  tells  me  that  your  Excellency  wants 
me." 

'You  are  one  of  the  porters?  " 

'  I  am  a  domestic." 

1  Is  the  Chamberlain  still  up?  " 

'  Monsieur,  I  cannot  say." 

'  Can  we  have  a  carriage  to  convey  us  at  once  to  the 
station?  " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  511 

"Walter,  you  rre  surely  never  going  to  behave  so 
foolishly?  " 

"  Leave  me  to  manage  this  matter  in  my  own  way. 
Can  we  have  a  carriage,  I  ask?  Are  you  deaf?  " 

The  old  man  gazed  compassionately  at  the  bent  head. 

"My  Lord  can  have  a  carriage.  But  there  are  no 
trains  until  the  morning." 

"Oh,  yes,  there  are,"  muttered  the  Englishman. 
"The  Maubeauge  train  stops  here  to-night."  Gode- 
froy  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  forgot.  Mademoiselle 
hardly  seems  to  me  in  a  condition  to  travel." 

Framlingham  turned  upon  him  like  a  tiger.  "What 
is  that  to  you?  Let  me  know  when  the  carriage 
is  here.  Now,  Muriel,  go  into  your  mother's  room  and 
change  your  things.  You,  too,  Henriette,  if  you  please." 

Neither  moved.  His  wife  suddenly  became  sweetly 
reasonable. 

"Walter,  are  you  carefully  considering  what  you  are 
about  to  do.  I  agree  cordially  that  we  should  assume  a 
dignified  attitude.  The  sooner  we  leave  in  the  morning, 
the  better.  But  this  midnight  flitting  will  occasion  a 
terrible  scandal,  which  may  cloud  the  whole  of  the  poor 
child's  married  life.  It  might  prevent  the  marriage 
altogether." 

"  There  can  be  no  marriage,"  her  husband  rejoined 
curtly.  "  Come,  Muriel,  do  as  I  order  you.  I  have 
neither  time  nor  the  mood  for  further  words.  Stir  your- 
self, child,"  he  cried  with  growing  irritation,  "stir 
yourself.  You  do  not  want  to  aggravate  matters  by 
foolish  disobedience." 

"But,  father,  you  are  helping  him  to  disgrace  me." 

"  Dearest,  be  sure  of  this,  if  any  other  way  were  pos- 
sible, I  would  follow  it.  None  is.  He  has  seduced  you, 
simply  because  he  knows  as  much.  He  asks  nothing 
better  than  that  you  should  suffer  him  to  keep  you  beside 
him.  He  will  tell  any  lies  to  achieve  that  purpose, 
promising  you  marriage  a  dozen  times  a  day.  It  might 
be  years  before  he  tired  of  you ;  but  you  are  no  nearer 
marriage  now  than  you  will  be  when  that  terrible  time 
comes,  and  he  informs  you  that  he  has  no  further  use 
for  your  services.  It  goes  to  my  heart  to  have  to  draw 


512  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

such  a  hideous  picture.  Only  you  must  face  the  inevita- 
ble result  to  any  weakness  at  this  moment." 

The  maid  put  her  head  in  at  the  door.  She  was 
British,  and  angular,  and  ancient.  She  had  come  to 
Madame  among  her  husband's  wedding  presents.  My 
Lady  called  her  "  Marie,"  and  swallowed  her  that  way. 

"Lady  Muriel's  travelling  clothes  are  ready,"  she 
said. 

The  girl  shrank  back  from  her  father's  outstretched 
hands. 

"You  are  making  a  great  mistake,"  cried  Lady  Fram- 
lingham.  If  Muriel  takes  my  advice,  she  won't  obey 
you." 

"  Silence,"  thundered  the  Earl,  enraged  by  his  daugh- 
ter's obstinacy.  "The  girl  has  obeyed  you  up  till  now, 
and  nicely  she  has  done  for  herself.  Muriel,  do  you 
hear  me?  Go  at  once  with  Marie.  This  place  stifles 
me." 

She  looked  at  him  with  reproachful  eyes.  Her  face, 
grown  terribly  weary  in  a  single  day,  and  framed  in  a 
maze  of  disordered  hair,  printed  itself  upon  his  memory, 
never  to  fade  therefrom  while  life  endured.  This  hence- 
forth was  the  vision  evoked  by  mention  of  the  much- 
loved  name.  Not  the  fresh,  genial  child  upon  his  knee; 
not  the  lanky  schoolgirl,  full  of  mischief  and  free  as 
air;  not  the  graceful  maiden,  highborn,  and  clad  in  ice- 
bound innocence;  but  this  sin-stained  woman,  whose 
weary  face  lay  framed  in  a  maze  of  disordered  hair — his 
little  Muriel. 

"Do  not  separate  us.  I  will  come  with  you,  father; 
only  do  not  separate  us.  Do  not  take  me  away  to  India, 
I  implore  you!  He  is  a  man,  and  he  loves  me — he  loves 
me,  I  tell  you.  I  have  good  reason  to  know  it.  And — 
and  I  owe  it  to  myself;  you  owe  it  to  me  not  to  take  me 
away  at  that  moment  when  a  great  career  opens  itself 
before  me." 

"Ah,  yes, "  he  exclaimed  bitterly,  "I  might  have 
guessed  the  weapon." 

Marie's  head  reappeared.  "The  hot  water  which  I 
have  poured  out,"  she  remarked  in  unexpected  French, 
"is  getting  cold." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  513 

Godefroy  entered  the  other  door  at  the  selfsame  in- 
stant. "The  carriage,"  said  he  in  equally  unexpected 
English,  "is  at  the  front  entrance." 

"  Promise  me  you  will  not  separate  us?  " 

"I  make  no  promises,"  he  cried.  "I  must  have  im- 
plicit obedience.  If  you  are  content  to  risk  a  life  of 
disgrace,  thank  God  I  am  wise  enough  to  save  you." 

"I  will  not  go  to  India."  The  increasing  harshness 
of  his  manner  drove  her  to  it. 

"How  dare  you  speak  like  that?"  Madame  was 
drawing  closer  to  their  daughter;  he  turned  upon  her 
with  clenched  fists. 

"  Henriette,  go  and  dress  yourself,"  he  shouted. 

"  I  shall  stay  with  my  dau — " 

"Go  and  dress  yourself."  He  was  rising  into  a 
paroxysm  of  fury.  A  single  key  higher,  and  the  whole 
Palace  would  hear.  He  seemed  to  want  them  to. 

"  Go  and  dress  yourself,"  he  yelled  yet  again. 

Both  servants  had  witnessed  this  extraordinary  out- 
burst. Marie,  her  face  in  absolutely  adamantine  repose, 
walked  up  to  her  mistress  and  drew  her  away  into  the 
next  room. 

"  You,  too,  Muriel.      Do  you  hear  me?  " 

"  I  am  not  a  slave  to  be  ordered  about  in  this  man- 
ner. ' ' 

"  So  this  is  your  return  for  my  indulgence.  Let  me 
tell  you,  my  Lady,  not  many  fathers  would  forgive  their 
children  such  a  sin  as  yours." 

She  rose  and  faced  him.     She  could  meet  his  eye  now. 

"  You  shall  not  insult  me.  I  see  what  you  want;  you 
want  always  to  keep  me  under,  to  trample  on  me.  In 
secret  you  are  overjoyed  that  this  has  happened.  You 
think  that  an  empress  is  greater  than  a  viceroy;  and  you 
want  always  to  keep  me  under." 

"  Muriel,  you  are  mad.  And  you  know  how  much  I 
love  you!  " 

"If  you  love  me,  you  will  not  come  between  me  and 
my — husband." 

"  Faugh,  you  make  me  sick.  Marie,  my  coat  and 
hat." 

"  Did  I  not  say  as  much.     You  parade  your  love;  but 


5H  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

your  real  aim  is  to  trample  on  me  and  keep  me  under. 
And  for  this  I  am  to  be  kept  a  poor,  ruined  creature  all 
my  life." 

"  Enough  of  this.  I  give  you  your  choice.  Come 
with  me  to  India,  forget  this  wretched  seduc —  lover  of 
yours;  and  you  shall  find  your  home  just  as  tender,  just 
as  loving  as  it  has  ever  been.  Refuse,  and  I  swear  to 
you — empress  or  no  empress — I  will  never  see  you  again. 
See — I  speak  quite  calmly.  I  am  fully  conscious  of 
what  I  am  saying.  You  must  obey  me,  or  you  must  go 
your  way. ' ' 

"  I  will  not  give  him  up. " 

"  You  elect  to  become  his  mis — ,  Muriel,"  he  broke 
off  in  one  last  burst  of  tenderness,  "be  warned  while 
there  is  yet  time.  To-morrow  will  be  too  late.  Do  not 
let  me  go  like  this.  I  have  never  used  compulsion 
towards  any  of  my  children;  lam  not  going  to  begin 
now.  I  might  compel  you;  perhaps  it  would  be 
better  if  I  did  compel  you.  But  I  do  not.  Muriel, 
reflect  what  you  are  doing.  Again  and  again  I  tell 
you,  I  understand  these  things  better  than  you.  For 
the  thousandth  time  take  my  assurance,  he  can  never 
marry  you.  You  know  it.  You  are  not  of  the  sort 
to  live  in  a  fool's  paradise," — and  bethinking  him  of  her 
sagacity,  whereof  in  days  gone  by  he  had  been  so  proud, 
he  gulped  down  a  sob, — "  in  your  heart  of  hearts,  you  know 
you  can  never  be  his  empress.  Be  guided  by  your  own 
good  sense, — my  little  Muriel,  my  darling,  you  who  are 
so  precious  to  me." 

"  Mademoiselle  will  be  wise  and  accompany  her  kind 
father,"  interjected  Godefroy. 

My  Lord  did  not  rend  him  now.  "This  is  the  Em- 
peror's servant.  You  hear  what  he  says?  You  may  be 
sure  he  knows  his  master." 

"Here  is  your  mother,"  he  went  on,  "and  Marie 
too,"  who  was  attired  in  a  close-fitting  ulster  and  helmet- 
shaped  blue  hat,  which  gave  her  the  appearance  of  a 
British  constable:  "we  await  you  only." 

"  I  cannot  do  as  you  bid  me." 

"  Is  that  your  final  answer?  " 

"Yes." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  515 

"  And  you  choose  to  remain  alone  ana  without  pro- 
tection in  this  man's  house?  " 

"  If  you  are  coward  enough  to  leave  me.  I  shall  know 
how  to  protect  myself." 

"You  have  been  so  successful  hitherto." 

Madame  flung  her  arms  round  the  girl's  neck. 

"I  will  not  leave  my  child,"  she  cried.  "Walter,  it 
is  you  who  are  mad.  It  is  inconceivable  that  you  would 
do  such  a  thing.  The  whole  world  will  cry  shame." 

"  Let  them.  I  have  done  more  than  most  fathers 
would  do.  Muriel,  I  am  still  ready  to  forgive  you  and 
to  take  you  home.  " 

"  Do  as  he  asks,"  says  my  Lady,  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  all  over  the  room.  Time  to  discuss  India  when 
we  get  home.  You  cannot  possibly  stay  here." 

The  girl  seemed  inclined  to  fall  in  with  this  Punic 
proposal. 

"  I  must  have  your  word  of  honour  that  you  will 
relinquish  him  forever,"  insisted  her  father. 

"  I  cannot  do  that." 

"  Then  we  must  part  forever."  He  was  cool  enough 
to  be  able  to  give  Godefroy  directions  about  their 
luggage : 

"Come,  Henriette. " 

"  I  refuse." 

"Very  well  " ;  and  my  Lord  moved  towards  the  bell. 

"What  is  the  madman  about  to  do?  "  she  cried. 

"  He  is  going  to  summon  as  many  as  care  to  come. 
He  is  going  to  send  for  Lord  Threpps  and  the  Prehlens, 
and  Marshal  Brisson,  and  Nicholas  Fersen,  aye,  and  every 
lackey  about  the  place,  to  let  them  know  how  the  Em- 
peror has  robbed  him  of  his  daughter;  how  this  mighty 
potentate  has  decoyed  a  child  into  his  house  to  ruin  and 
debauch  her!  That  is  what  the  madman  is  going  to  do. " 

"You  are  so  valuable,"  he  went  on,  eyeing  her 
grimly,  "  I  have  a  mind  to  call  them,  whether  you  come 
or  not.  I  will  call — no,  it  shall  be  my  revenge.  Hen- 
riette, are  you  coming?" 

"Mother,  I  beseech  you,  spare  me  that  last  scene. 
All  will  be  well  in  the  end,  if  only  you  both  go  quietly." 

"I  am  coming.     Kiss  me,  Muriel,"  straining  the  girl 


516  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

to  her  bosom.  "  Ah,  my  darling  child,  you  know  I  never 
meant  you  to  come  to  harm.  How  I  wish  we  had  never 
seen  this  miserable  place;  that  these  dreadful  things  had 
never  happened.  But  it  will  all  come  right  in  the  end. 
He  can  never  be  such  a  coward.  I  feel  certain  that  it 
will  all  come  right."  But  despite  these  comforting 
assurances  her  remorse  almost  choked  her.  It  was  a 
dreadful  price  to  pay,  simply  because  she  had  been  very, 
very  foolish  and  very,  very  weak.  If  only  she  had  taken 
De  Morin's  advice.  Ah,  those  "if  onlys," — how  they 
strew  the  world!  "Your  father  will  forgive  you,"  were 
her  parting  words. 

"  Not  until  I  am  Empress,"  said  the  girl,  a  last  gleam 
of  pride  lifting  that  poor  draggled  head. 

Marie  prepared  to  follow  her  master  and  mistress. 
But  she  had  one  word  to  add  before  she  went. 

"  I  think  the  three  of  you  are  behaving  very  fool- 
ishly," she  said  with  composure.  "I  do  indeed.  What 
your  father  can  be  thinking  about  beats  me  altogether. 
He  is  in  one  of  his  nasty  tempers.  Say  the  word,  my 
Lady,  and  I  stay  with  you  "  ;  and  Marie,  who  had  a  passion 
for  crown-stamped  buttons  of  the  soup-plate  pattern, 
clasped  number  one  below  her  throat.  "We  can  be  out 
of  this  and  off  by  six.  Your  father  will  be  glad  enough 
to  forget  his  part  in  to-night's  work.  He  has  no  reason 
to  be  proud  of  it,  I  can  tell  him." 

"Dear  Marie,  it  will  be  no  use,"  sobbed  the  girl. 
"  You  do  n't  know  father." 

"  I  knew  him  before  you  were  born." 

"It  will  be  no  use,"  Muriel  repeated.  And  Marie 
turned  upon  her  heels  and  disappeared.  You  can't  wear 
crown-stamped  buttons  without  acquiring  some  amount 
of  military  precision. 

Muriel  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  gave  herself 
over  to  misery.  It  took  complete  possession  of  her 
being.  She  could  think  of  nothing.  She  knew  that, 
having  erred,  she  owed  herself  this  reparation,  pursued 
at  such  a  cost.  Her  heart  had  room  alone  for  a  confused 
remembrance  of  the  terrors  of  the  last  thirty  hours. 

The  touch  of  gentle  fingers  hovering  for  a  moment 
above  her  head  startled  her  back  into  life.  A  great  joy 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  517 

filled  her  heart:  her  rightful  protector  had  come  at  last. 
But  it  was  the  voice  of  Godefroy. 

"  My  young  mistress  has  shown  herself  full  of  courage. 
Does  she  desire  that  I  should  help  her?  " 

She  answered  with  a  look  of  gratitude. 

"Remember,  I  promise  nothing.  I  still  think  that 
you  would  be  wiser  to  obey  your  father.  We  have  yet 
time — shall  we  follow  him?  " 

"  I  cannot." 

They  were  all  alike.  Not  one  but  counselled  her  to 
sit  down  under  disgrace.  She  would  have  to  fight  her 
battle  out  alone,  relying  on  nothing  but  Napoleon's 
honour  and  her  own  strong  will. 

"To-morrow  morning,  then,"  urged  Godefroy.  "I 
will  this  moment  rouse  Lady  Threpps:  she  shall  accom- 
pany Mademoiselle  to  Paris  by  the  first  train." 

"No,  no." 

"  Then  I  have  a  third  plan.  Mademoiselle  is  prepared 
to  risk  all  on  a  single  throw?  " 

She  nodded. 

"Wait  here.     I  will  return  directly." 

It  is  a  trite  saying  that  hope  in  youthful  breasts  takes 
a  deal  of  killing.  The  kind  old  man  had  doubtless  hur- 
ried off  to  fetch  Napoleon.  Her  lover  would  learn  how 
faithful  she  had  been  to  him,  and  her  terrible  plight. 
The  result  went  without  saying.  She  had  no  fear.  To- 
morrow would  be  her  wedding-day.  Not  the  grand  cere- 
mony originally  pictured ;  but  none  the  less  sweet  for  that. 
She  began  to  colour  in  the  scene:  the  guests  departed; 
the  chapel  dimly  lit,  and  empty  except  for  Napoleon  and 
herself,  the  priest,  his  faithful  valet,  and  perhaps  De 
Morin.  Yes,  she  would  always  love  Compiegne,  both  for 
what  she  had  suffered,  and  for  this  crowning  joy.  And 
on  Monday  she  would  drive  in  a  one-horse  brougham 
and  quiet  clothes  round  to  her  father's  house.  She  would 
go  straight  to  his  study.  Marc-Antonin  should  throw 
wide  the  door  and  announce,  "Her  Majesty,  the  Em- 
press. " 

Voices  broke  in  upon  these  delicious  dreams.  How 
to  meet  him?  Not  in  a  posture  of  despair,  surely;  nor 
yet  too  gaily.  She  rose  with  beating  heart. 


518  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Godefroy  came  first,  his  ponderous  face  marked  by 
lines  of  deepened  gravity.  And  his  companion  proved 
only  Brisson!  with  whom  she  had  not  exchanged  a  single 
word  since  their  only  interview;  the  man  whom  she  had 
always  passed  with  averted  gaze  and  quickened  pulse. 

But  his  chivalrous  bearing  soon  reassured  her.  He 
bent  his  head  over  her  hand  much  as  though  she  had 
been  Empress-dowager  of  China,  and  not  the  unhappy 
thing  foretold  by  his  fatal  words.  The  worthy  soldier 
had  evidently  come  straight  out  of  dreamland:  a  long 
military  overcoat  swathed  him  from  chin  to  ankle.  It 
served  him  as  a  dressing-gown. 

"  His  Majesty  is  up,  you  say? "  he  inquired  of  Gode- 
froy. 

"  He  is  still  at  his  desk." 

"And  he  knows  about — about  Mademoiselle?" 

"I  have  just  told  him." 

"Then  he  expects  her?" 

Godefroy  gave  no  direct  affirmative.  He  muttered 
merely  that  there  could  be  no  impediment  to  their  pro- 
ceeding thither  forthwith. 

"  Mademoiselle  comprehends  the  risk,"  suggested  the 
gentle-hearted  soldier.  "This — this  midnight  attack — 
visit  may  only  serve  to  irritate  his  Majesty.  Men  are  so 
different.  On  second  thoughts  you  prefer  to  speak  with 
him  in  the  morning  ?  Godefroy  and  I  will  arrange  it." 

"  I  will  go  at  once,"  she  answered;  "  I  have  no  fear." 

"  We  obey.  Godefroy,  go  first.  Mademoiselle."  She 
took  his  proffered  arm  with  a  heart  not  quite  so  fearless 
as  her  words.  But  she  knew  her  stronger  will. 

And  truly  her  dreads  were  nothing  to  Napoleon's. 
Returning  to  his  room  some  two  hours  earlier,  he  had 
found  a  telegram  from  Carache  to  De  Morin  (annotated 
in  red  ink  by  the  Chamberlain)  declaring  it  impossible  to 
arrest  Nadez,  either  that  night  or  for  many  nights  to 
come.  Indignant  at  such  flagrant  disobedience,  the  Em- 
peror had  then  and  there  sat  down  to  administer  a  sting- 
ing rebuke  to  his  Premier.  He  had  just  sealed  the  en- 
velope when  Godefroy  made  his  unwelcome  appearance. 
Napoleon  had  ventured  to  suggest  that  the  interview 
should  be  postponed  until  the  morning.  "  I  came  to  see 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  519 

whether  his  Majesty  was  up  and  able  to  receive  her," 
the  valet  had  answered  curtly;  "I  will  conduct  her  to  him. " 

So  Majesty,  not  daring  to  say  him  nay,  now  sat  in 
anticipation  of  a  terrible  scene.  For  the  moment,  Mu- 
riel figured  in  his  unstable  mind  as  the  chief  offender. 
Men  and  women  always  meet  half-way  to  work  the  evil 
which  they  two  had  done ;  what  right  then  had  she  to 
cause  this  miserable  midnight  scandal,  or  force  herself 
into  his  presence,  like  some  common  slut  who  flaunts  a 
successful  affiliation  summons  and  the  baby  one  yard 
behind  the  beaten,  draggled-tailed  defendant? 

Godefroy  and  Brisson  led  the  way.  The  sight  of  a 
second  witness  increased  the  poor  fellow's  indignation. 
He  stood  up,  lamely  attempting  to  look  self-possessed. 
And  so  he  remained,  waiting  for  the  proceedings  to 
begin. 

Muriel  had  imagined  that  one  step  across  the  thresh- 
old would  carry  her  into  her  lover's  arms.  She  entered 
smiling.  Piteously  indeed,  but  nevertheless  smiling. 
She  even  attempted  a  display  of  those  fascinations — those 
winning,  childlike  airs  and  graces  —  which  had  never 
hitherto  failed  of  success.  She  could  have  chosen  no 
more  fatal  demeanour.  Napoleon  felt  repulsed  and  sick- 
ened. It  was  the  first  touch  of  genuine  hatred;  taste 
number  two  of  the  end. 

Her  companions  stopped  half-way  across  the  room. 
She  advanced  alone, — still  smiling,  gazing  at  him  fondly 
with  that  whimsical  expression,  which,  in  his  opinion,  she 
no  longer  had  any  right  to  wear.  How  base  and  unmanly 
was  this  creature's  heart,  how  altogether  devoid  of 
chivalry,  was  now  shown  beyond  question.  He  actually 
receded,  visibly  repelled,  before  this  poor  creature  whom 
he  had  betrayed. 

She  stopped.  Her  chin  dropt  in  bewilderment;  a 
wave  of  scarlet  swept  across  her  face.  Despite  her  reso- 
lute heart  and  the  feet  that  had  strayed,  she  remained  a 
child  still.  And  the  truth  came  faintly;  the  invincible 
corollary  of  their  love.  She  caught  her  breath  and  burst 
into  tears.  Her  distress  went  straight  to  its  target;  the 
heart  of  this  man  of  a  thousand  changing  moods  at  last 
was  touched.  So  he  opened  his  arms. 


520  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"My  darling,"  he  cried,  "don't  weep  like  that,  un- 
less you  want  to  unman  me.  Godefroy  has  told  me  what 
you  have  done  for  my  sake.  How  I  love  you  for  it, 
dearest;  more  than  ever  before,  if  such  a  thing  were 
only  possible." 

She  grew  calm  at  once.  It  was  good  to  nestle  thus 
against  his  breast,  now  that  she  had  no  other  protector. 

"  My  precious  is  tired  and  overwrought,"  he  went  on. 
"  She  did  quite  right  to  come  to  me.  I  could  never  have 
rested  without  telling  her  how  wise  she  was  to  trust  in 
my  great  love."  He  began  to  shower  kisses  upon  her 
head.  No  doubt  they  fell  where  her  father's  had  fallen, 
half  an  hour  before.  "But  we  must  all  have  a  good 
night's  rest.  You  would  not  like  to  make  a  confidante 
of  Lady  Threpps?  "  he  asked  anxiously  by  way  of  after- 
thought; "she  could  take  you  home  by  an  early  train." 

"I  will  not  return  home  until  I  am  married." 

"  But  your  poor  father?  " 

"  I  do  n't  see  that  he  need  be  especially  considered," 
Godefroy  broke  in  bluntly.  "  He  hasn't  behaved  himself 
over-well.  Not  that  I  do  n't  recommend  Mademoiselle 
to  return  home — unless,  of  course,  your  Majesty  intends 
to  fulfil  your  promise." 

"Of  course  I  do,"  responded  Majesty  faintly.  But 
she  looked  at  him  with  such  beseeching  doubt  clearly 
expressed  in  her  eyes  that  he  resumed  his  former  ardour 
and  his  high-flown  words. 

"  Listen,  Muriel.  In  the  presence  of  Marshal  Brisson 
and  Monsieur  Godefroy  I  swear  to  you  that  I  will  keep  my 
promise.  Do  you  hear  me,  Brisson?  Godefroy,  do  you? 
I  will  forfeit  my  throne;  I  will  forfeit  life  itself  rather 
than  surrender  you.  Before  the  great  God  I  swear  it." 

Anything  further  would  have  been  bathos.  Napoleon 
kissed  her  brow  (a  rapt  expression,  speaking  of  heaven 
and  the  love  that  lives  among  the  angels,  over  his  own) ; 
and  Muriel  returned  the  kiss,  suffering  herself  to  be 
turned  aside  from  more  specific  details. 

But,  all  the  same,  she  kept  wondering  why  she  had 
fallen.  Was  this  really  it,  that,  being  conscious  of  his 
unstable  character,  she  had  imagined  a  sacrifice  of  her 
honour  would  draw  him  closer  to  her?  Pure-minded  even 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  521 

yet,  and  still  without  passion,  she  had  bent  before  a 
weaker  will;  she  had  given  herself  up  to  a  man  who 
himself  was  near  as  modest,  not  practised  in  seduction, 
not  a  libertine,  falling  for  the  first  time  also,  and  only 
because  he  had  loved  her  very  much. 

"The  best  course,"  resumed  the  Emperor  with  grow- 
ing complaisancy,  "  would  be  to  find  you  a  suitable  home 
and  a  suitable  companion  until  the  necessary  prelimin- 
aries are  got  through.  They  will  take  about  a  fortnight. " 

"So  long?  But  my  father  and  mother  leave  Paris  in 
ten  days." 

"  Ah,  they  shall  be  induced  to  postpone  their  depart- 
ure. Never  fear,  little  one.  I  have  it,"  he  cried,  struck 
by  a  brilliant  idea;  "  what  do  you  say  to  Meaux?  Mar- 
shal Brisson  shall  take  you  there  in  the  morning.  I — I, 
the  Emperor,  will  go  in  person  to  your  father,  and  give 
him  my  pro —  satisfactory  assurances.  He  and  my  Lady 
will  proceed  to  Meaux  to-morrow  evening;  and  you  will 
only  have  to  walk  across  our  little  bridge.  Ah,  Muriel, 
the  summer  is  coming  back:  we  shall  have  many  a  sweet 
hour  yet,  beside  our  little  bridge." 

"  How  good  and  kind  you  are,"  she  cried,  genuinely 
grateful. 

"  That  's  settled.  Now,  little  one," — she  did  not  re- 
sent this  repeated  use  of  her  father's  term  of  endearment, 
— "  to  bed.  Dry  your  eyes.  That  weary  little  heart 
must  get  to  rest." 

A  fresh  fancy  seized  him.  He  glanced  anxiously  at 
Brisson  and  Godefroy:  would  they  laugh?  he  wondered. 
Why  should  they?  The  former  had  received  his  title  in 
identically  the  same  way. 

"  Godefroy,"  he  burst  forth,  "you  will  conduct  the 
Princess  to  her  room." 

The  valet  bowed,  and  turned  to  Muriel: 

"  Your  Highness  will  kindly  follow  me?  " 

The  girl  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with  a  bewil- 
dered laugh  of  pleasure.  She  kissed  her  hand  to  Napoleon 
amid  smiles  that  no  longer  repelled.  Then  she  turned 
and  followed  the  major-domo.  "  If  only  father  could 
see  me!"  she  thought,  as  she  went  along  the  silent 
corridors. 


522  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

If  only  she  could  have  seen  her  father.  The 
Maubeauge  express  was  slackening  speed  for  the  first 
time  since  quitting  Compiegne.  Lady  Framlingham, 
seated  by  the  near  window  of  the  compartment  which  she 
and  her  husband  divided  between  them,  passed  her 
muff  across  the  glass.  A  flickering  lamp  without  showed 
the  first  black  signs  of  Paris.  She  turned  timidly  round 
to  my  Lord,  who  leaned  back  in  the  farther  corner, 
frowning  at  the  hat-rack  in  front  of  him.  He  had  not 
changed  his  posture  throughout  the  journey,  nor  uttered 
a  word. 

"We  are  there,"  she  murmured.  He  made  no  sign; 
and  she  resumed  her  survey  of  the  outside  world,  idly 
watching  how  the  rails  began  to  multiply  and  glisten 
under  the  increasing  lights. 

Marie  was  at  their  door  almost  before  the  train  had 
come  to  a  standstill.  She  helped  her  mistress  onto  the 
deserted  platform,  and  both  women  stood  waiting  for 
my  Lord.  But  my  Lord  came  not.  Henriette  turned: 
my  Lord  had  not  budged,  only  his  head  had  fallen  for- 
ward. 

"Walter!  "  she  cried;  and  she  sprang  towards  him 
and  laid  it  for  a  moment  against  her  breast.  They  had 
each  to  take  one  side  of  him,  and  help  him  down  and 
from  the  station.  And  so  he  goes  out  of  this  story  to 
rule  his  millions,  robbed  of  what  he  loves  most  in  the 
world,  and  blinded  with  tears. 


Chapter  XI 


Morning  brought  but  sombre  awakening  to  all  con- 
cerned in  last  night's  tragedy.  Muriel  left  for  Meaux 
at  an  early  hour.  The  journey,  following  as  it  did  upon 
a  tender  parting,  was  made  under  Brisson's  guidance. 
His  gentle  tact  helped  to  soften  it,  no  less  than  the  girl's 
confidence  in  the  success  of  her  lover's  mission. 

If  only  this  chapter — and  the  opportunities  are  grow- 
ing very  precious — might  proceed  to  chronicle  a  day  spent 
in  absolute  fulfillment  of  our  hero's  solemn  vows,  how 
gladly  would  a  not  over-ready  pen  accompany  him  to  the 
Avenue  de  Villiers,  No.  47,  and  describe  with  painful 
minuteness  his  suppliant  attitude  upon  the  doorstep,  his 
chilling  reception,  the  father's  ebbing  rage,  his  own 
frank  avowals  and  final  victory.  That  task  performed, 
how  joyfully  would  it  waft  my  Lord  to  Meaux,  there  to 
assist  at  a  far  more  desirable  scene  of  reconciliation  and 
mutual  forgiveness. 

And  indeed  when  Napoleon  set  forth  from  Compiegne, 
onl'y  half  an  hour  after  Muriel,  he  fully  intended  to  seek 
the  Earl,  and  soothe  him  with  comfortable  words.  But — 
and  there^is  shame  even  to  write  it — he  got  no  farther 
than  the  Elysee.  He  reached  it  before  luncheon.  Not 
a  single  obstacle,  great  or  small,  arose  to  detain  him, 
nothing  save  his  own  fatal  irresolution,  which  marred 
every  enterprise  he  set  his  hand  to.  What  a  comfort, 
had  it  been  otherwise;  had  his  purpose  been  hampered 
by  events  outside  his  own  control:  De  Morin,  for  in- 
stance, absolutely  forbidding  this  attempt  at  placation 
which  could  lead  to  nothing  but  more  broken  promises; 
or,  again,  an  urgent  message  from  MM.  Carache  and 
Prehlen  to  the  effect  that  England  had  somehow  got 
wind  of  their  pourparlers  and  was  collecting  her  lazy 
limbs  to  pounce. 

523 


524  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Best  of  all,  a  reply  from  Nadez  in  the  form  of  an  attack 
upon  his  valuable  life.  The  opportunity  for  such  had 
been  there  sure  enough.  Napoleon,  ensconced  in  an 
open  carriage,  had  proceeded  at  a  sharp  trot  homeward 
from  the  Gare  du  Nord.  A  block  had  stopped  him  full 
four  minutes  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Drouot.  If  only 
the  Eurasian  had  jumped  upon  him  then  and  stuck  him 
through  the  stomach!  Alas,  none  of  these  excuses  were 
granted  unto  him.  De  Morin,  Prehlen,  and  Carache, 
one  and  all  left  him  severely  alone.  England  lay  still 
asleep,  while  Nadez  was  not  yet  ready. 

To  descend  from  the  cloudlands  of  hypothesis,  and 
resume  our  modest  way  along  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
Napoleon — as  has  been  mentioned  already — reached  the 
Elyse"e  before  lunch.  He  consumed  that  meal  with  all 
the  heartiness  of  a  man  about  to  perform  some  noble 
action.  He  wiped  his  mouth  with  his  napkin,  and  in- 
formed Godefroy  that  he  would  be  in  his  library  until 
three, ' '  when, ' '  said  he,  gazing  absently  at  the  remainder 
of  the  prunes,  "  I  propose  to  take  a  little  walk." 

Accordingly,  at  five  to  three  the  valet  went  into  the 
library  to  poke  the  fire.  Majesty  lay  full  length  upon  a 
couch.  A  newspaper,  fallen  from  his  hands,  enveloped 
him  like  some  light  coverlet:  his  vacant  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  ceiling.  The  sight  struck  an  instant  chill  to 
the  marrow  of  the  old  man's  bones.  He  smashed  every 
piece  of  coal  the  grate  contained;  he  stabbed  the  scuttle 
in  the  back  with  one  blow  of  the  shovel;  he  flung  the 
tongs  and  poker  into  their  usual  resting-place;  and  ended 
by  brushing  up  the  hearth  the  wrong  way. 

Napoleon  groaned  and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall. 

"It  is  three  o'clock." 

"Is  it?"  replied  our  hero  in  die-away  tones.  "I 
do  n't  feel  very  well.  Let  me  have  a  cup  of  tea  in  about 
an  hour's  time." 

"  The  fresh  air  will  revive  you.  Shall  I  bring  you 
your  fur  coat?  To  my  mind,  you  will  find  the  light  one 
heavy  enough:  it  has  turned  quite  muggy." 

"  My — fur — coat?  "  queried  the  Emperor  in  a  sort  of 
meditative  repetition;  "  my  dear  Godefroy,  I  do  not  feel 
well  enough  to  go  walking.  No,  I  shall  lie  quietly  until  tea. ' ' 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  525 

The  butler  chucked  the  hearth-brush  back  into  its 
corner  with  so  correct  an  aim  that  it  finished  upright. 
Still  on  his  knees,  he  turned  and  gazed  venomously  at 
his  master. 

"Not  so  much  noise,"  implored  the  latter  faintly. 
Godefroy  rose,  and  came  and  stood  directly  over  this 
interesting  recumbent  figure.  The  interesting  recum- 
bent figure  commenced  to  wriggle. 

"I  thought  your  Majesty  had  an  engagement." 

"  I  never  said  so,"  which  was  quite  true. 

"You  told  me  that  you  were  going  for  a  walk  at 
three  o'clock." 

"  May  I  not  change  my  mind?  I  feel  too  ill  to  budge. 
Pray  leave  me  to  sleep;  and — and  be  careful  to  close 
the  door  gently." 

Godefroy  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  It  is  bright  and 
fresh  out  of  doors.  Come,  an  hour  in  the  Bois  will  do 
you  good." 

"Just  now  you  said  it  was  muggy." 

"  Yes,  but  there  is  a  delicious  breeze." 

"No,"  said  the  prostrate  ruler,  after  a  short  pause 
for  reflection,  "  I  sha'n't  move  at  present.  Bring  me  a 
cup  of  tea  in  an  hour.  And  for  heaven's  sake  shut  the 
door  gently." 

Godefroy  closed  the  door  so  gently  that  he  failed  to 
latch  it.  Consequently  he  had  to  bang  it  after  all. 

" I  do  n't  know  about  other  princes,"  he  muttered  as 
he  sought  his  cabinet;  "but  that  man  is  wretched  indeed 
who  puts  his  trust  in  this  one." 

Wretched  indeed. 

Muriel  also  reached  her  journey's  end  before  luncheon. 
Meaux  in  November  came  as  a  strange  sensation ;  and 
even  stranger,  any  house  therein  except  her  father's. 
The  Villa  Yvonne,  its  beauties  changed  but  not  impaired 
by  the  dreary  season,  repelled  her.  The  first  sight  of 
it,  as  their  carriage  turned  off  the  road,  struck  a  name- 
less dread  into  her  heart.  She  shrank  back  trembling 
from  the  open  doorway.  The  bright  rooms,  prepared  in 
haste  against  her  coming,  were  hateful  to  her  even  before 
she  could  take  in  their  details.  It  was  the  terror  of  some 
poor,  sentenced  sufferer  who  carries  his  incurable  malady 


526  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

from  place  to  place  in  the  hope  that  at  last  he  may  leave 
it  behind  him,  on  reaching  the  final  new  abode  his  life 
will  give  him,  and  beholding  for  the  first  time  the  room 
and  bed  wherein  he  has  to  die. 

Only  one  thing  pleased  her.  The  household  consisted 
of  a  retired  butler  from  the  Elysee  and  his  middle-aged 
wife,  who  was  staid  and  prim  to  look  at,  and  seemed 
of  an  incurious  temperament.  There  were  no  prying 
lackeys,  no  pert  waiting-maids  to  probe  her  sorrow.  The 
gaunt  female — she  reminded  the  girl  a  little  of  Marie — 
helped  silently  disrobe  her  new  mistress;  then  conducted 
her  into  a  sitting-room,  where  the  table  was  laid. 

"The  Princess  will  touch  the  bell  when  she  wants 
me,"  was  all  she  said.  And  having  said  so  much,  she 
left  my  Lady  to  the  soup  and  her  own  devices. 

Being  merely  about  to  benefit  by  some  noble  action, 
Muriel's  appetite  proved  less  robust  than  Napoleon's. 
In  truth,  she  could  not  swallow  a  single  morsel.  She 
crossed  into  her  bedroom — it  opened  out — and  resumed 
her  cloak  and  hat.  She  stood  gazing  idly  down  at  the 
lawn  and  gravel-path  that  divided  the  villa  from  the 
road. 

Their  dilapidated  fly  still  waited  before  the  porch. 
She  felt  tempted  to  use  it  back  to  Meaux,  and  journey 
without  a  single  break  from  Meaux  to  Tipton,  where  she 
had  been  born  and  bred,  and  wherein  she  fancied  her 
perturbed  spirit  might  find  rest.  Presently  Brisson  ap- 
peared upon  the  doorstep.  He  signed  to  the  driver  to 
depart  empty ;  then  set  forth  on  foot  and  at  a  swinging 
pace. 

Most  of  Muriel  s  heart  went  with  him.  He  had  per- 
formed his  mission  with  such  unobtrusive  kindness.  And 
it  irked  her  to  see  any  one  leave  her  gilded  prison-house. 
The  place  began  to  stifle  her.  The  bright  rooms, 
threaded  from  end  to  end  with  sunbeams,  and  warmed  by 
cheerful  fires  that  spluttered  in  hateful  complaisancy, 
drove  her  mad.  The  tempting  table  brought  a  return 
of  her  recent  sickness.  The  rich  decorations  and  sump- 
tuous furniture,  the  wealth  of  gaudily  covered  books, 
the  meretricious  nooks  and  corners,  completed  the  tale 
of  her  misery,  adding  genuine  terror  to  what  had  been 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  527 

at  first  merely  a  feeling  of  uncomfortable  dislike.  The 
significance  of  it  all  commenced  to  dawn  upon  her  brain. 
Yet  what  could  this  girl  know  of  the  Maintenons  and 
Pompadours,  the  Du  Barrys  and  Nell  Gwynnes,  or  of 
the  caskets  forged  to  hold  these  priceless  pearls?  Before 
her  fall,  she  had  had  neither  the  chance  nor  inclination 
to  read  about  them;  since,  she  had  not  had  time — nor 
more  desire,  she  who  would  have  shrunk  with  fresh  reason 
from  the  mere  mention  of  their  names.  The  knowledge 
of  evil  people  and  of  their  crimes  reaches  us  through  the 
medium  of  no  direct  instruction.  It  is  parcel  of  the  air 
we  breathe.  It  enters  us,  when  and  how  we  know  not; 
and  it  is  always  ready  to  our  hands  when  our  time  comes. 
She  passed  softly  onto  the  landing.  Everything  seemed 
still.  She  was  glad  of  it;  she  could  not  bear  the  face  of 
any  living  soul.  She  meant  to  steal  down  to  the  river- 
side and  spend  the  afternoon  in  solitude.  The  place 
might  bear  a  very  different  aspect  when  she  returned. 
Her  parents  would  have  assuredly  arrived;  De  Morin 
perhaps  with  them,  the  bearer  of  a  definite  date.  A 
cough  startled  her.  The  thin  housekeeper  sat  darning 
stockings  beside  the  stove:  she  had  her  back  turned 
towards  the  door  of  Muriel's  sitting-room. 

She  did  not  lift  her  eyes  from  her  work: 

"The  Princess  has  found  everything  satisfactory?" 
she  asked. 

Muriel  merely  nodded.  She  resented  this  woman's 
encampment  at  her  very  gates. 

"I  am  glad,"  the  other  went  on,  imperturbably. 
"  Her  Highness  proposes  to  take  a  short  walk?  " 

"Yes,  I  do,"  returned  the  still  resentful  Princess. 
"  My  mother  and  father  will  be  here  this  evening,"  she 
added  proudly.  "  Let  them  know  that  I  shall  be  back 
not  later  than  six." 

"Very  good.  They  will  wish  to  have  tea:  it  shall  be 
ready  for  them." 

She  found  the  Marne  much  swollen,  notwithstanding 
the  dryness  of  the  season.  The  fringe  of  lawn,  her 
favourite  resting-place  in  bygone  summers,  lay  under 
water.  Its  guardian  poplars  were  washed  by  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  muddy  currents.  Without  a  second  glance 


528  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

at  this  dreary  scene,  she  sped  across  the  bridge  into  her 
father's  grounds.  She  seemed  straightway  to  breathe  a 
purer  air.  Her  step  grew  more  elastic.  She  had  won 
her  way  back  into  the  region  of  her  childhood.  For  a 
single  brief  moment  of  bright  forgetfulness  she  recovered 
the  cleanness  of  those  irrevocable  days.  She  even  com- 
menced to  dream;  modestly,  indeed,  as  befitted  conva- 
lescence. The  Villa  Henriette  would  be  fit  to  receive 
them.  She  could  send  back  Pons  to  fetch  her  parents; 
and  the  three  of  them  would  spend  the  night  under  their 
own  roof.  No  more  Villa  Yvonne !  When  she  was  Em- 
press, the  ill-omened  place  should  pass  out  of  royal 
possession  for  good  and  all.  This  pleasing  project, 
alas,  went  the  way  of  many  others.  The  villa  presented 
two  cheerless  rows  of  green  shutters,  and  a  padlocked 
door.  The  house  might  have  held  Elysium  for  its  security. 
It  held  nothing  else.  She  rang  and  shouted;  nothing 
came  save  feeble  echoes.  She  fled  precipitately  back  to 
her  sole  poor  haven.  And  she  mounted  to  her  rooms  a 
good  two  hours  in  advance  of  time  she  had  mentioned. 
The  woman  still  sat  darning. 
'  Is  my  father  here?  " 
'No,  Madame.  Shall  I  bring  tea?" 
I  will  wait.  They  cannot  arrive  much  before  six." 
'  Very  good,  Princess." 
'  Will  you  tell  me  your  name?  " 
'I  am  called  Eugenie." 

You  need   not  wait  in  the  passage,  Eugenie.     I  can 
ring  when  I  want  anything." 

"I  always  sit  beside  this  stove,"  Eugenie  replied 
with  composure. 

"Eugenie,"  burst  out  the  girl  under  an  incontrollable 
impulse,  "has  Monsieur  told  you  anything  about  me?  " 

"Your  Highness  means  Marshal  Brisson.  Certainly. 
He  informed  me  that  you  were  an  English  Princess,  a 
cousin  of  the  Emperor's;  and  that  you  had  some  idea  of 
purchasing  this  villa.  Hence  Madame's  visit." 

"And  what  becomes  of  you  two,  presuming  I  buy 
it?" 

"We  are  to  have  Compiegne  so  soon  as  Monsieur 
August  Fabre  dies.  He  cannot  last  forever." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  529 

"  Eugenie,  why  do  you  always  sit  beside  the  stove?  " 

"My  husband  snores  in  front  of  the  kitchen  fire.  I 
cannot  hear  the  bell." 

"  No  one  ever  comes." 

"But  yes.  You  yourself  Princess,  came  this  morn- 
ing: your  illustrious  parents  arrive  to-night." 

"I  shall  hear  them,"  cried  Muriel.  "You  need  not 
wait  on  their  account." 

"Thank  you,  I  am  comfortable." 

The  girl  retired  vanquished.  The  lamps  in  her  sit- 
ting-room certainly  made  the  place  look  cosy.  The 
general  warmth  was  not  without  its  effect  upon  her 
spirits.  But  she  would  not  have  purchased  the  property 
did  she  possess  exclusive  cognizance  of  a  gold  mine 
underneath  the  front  lawn. 

She  opened  the  bedroom  door,  that  she  might  hear 
the  earliest  sounds  of  their  approach.  She  chose  a  book 
by  a  French  author  upon  the  wonders  of  Cashmere,  then 
seated  herself  beside  the  fire  and  began  to  think  about 
the  Elyse"e. 

She  knew  the  trains  from  Paris.  Her  lover's  visit 
could  not  be  made  much  before  three.  Probably  five 
was  nearer  the  mark.  The  last  train  reached  Meaux  at 
something  after  eleven;  her  parents  must  arrive  not  later 
than  midnight.  So  she  plunged  boldly  into  the  midst 
of  Shrinagar,  with  complete  success,  for  presently  she 
passed  into  a  gentle  slumber. 

She  awoke  to  find  Eugenie  standing  over  her  with  the 
tea  tray. 

"  Princess,  it  is  nearly  seven.  Your  illustrious  parents 
have  not  arrived." 

"Ah,  they  will  come  later.  You  did  right  to  bring 
the  tea.  I  am  hungry. " 

"  The  supper  is  already  laid,"  hesitated  the  woman. 

"I  shall  wait  until  they  arrive." 

"  At  what  hour  does  your  Highness  desire  it  served?  " 

"I  cannot  say,"  Muriel  exclaimed,  indulging  in  a 
little  burst  of  petulance.  "  Do  you  not  see  that  these 
details  annoy  me?  Please  leave  me  in  peace." 

"  There  is  soup,"  Eugenie  persisted. 
"There  may  be." 


530  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

She  saw  no  more  of  Eugenie  that  evening.  The 
night  wore  on  as  persistently  as  nights  will  when  one 
is  waiting  for  those  who  do  not  come.  The  fire  settled 
lower  and  lower  in  the  grate ;  her  heart  with  it.  Towards 
one  of  the  morning  she  went  supperless  to  bed.  She 
sank  into  troubled  slumbers  that  tried  to  find  the  cause 
of  this  cruel  disappointment.  Even  dreaming,  her  brain 
kept  asking  whether  it  was  that  her  father  had  proved 
adamant  or  her  lover  faithless.  And  then  dreams  van- 
ished. The  genuine  sleep  of  childhood  fell  upon  her 
eyes.  Thrice  fortunate  had  it  never  lifted  more.  The 
sun  wakened  her, — the  sun,  and  the  sputterings  of  a 
freshly  kindled  fire.  Her  breakfast  lay  beside  her  bed. 
One  plate  contained  a  letter  directed  in  an  upright  hand 
to  H.  H.  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of  Pierrefonds.  It  proved 
ten  closely  written  sheets  of  love.  The  postscript  held  a 
tiny  excuse  for  his  latest  treachery:  "  Dearest,  I  felt  too 
ill  to  leave  my  sofa.  I  have  devised  a  better  plan;  you 
shall  hear  it  when  we  meet  on  Monday." 

That  was  the  first  of  many  lonely  days, — days  wherein 
utter  misery  and  dejection  alternated  with  extravagant 
light-heartedness;  the  latter  nourished  on  Napoleon's 
promises,  which  (written  and  spoken)  were  legion;  the 
former  begotten  of  her  hateful  dwelling  and  solitary 
condition. 

His  demeanour,  it  must  be  confessed,  left  nothing  to 
be  desired.  He  was  unremitting  in  his  attentions. 
Never  a  day  passed  without  a  letter;  never  a  week  with- 
out a  visit.  Divided  from  her,  his  words  seemed  to 
breathe  a  constant  yearning  for  her  presence;  the  which 
being  granted,  he  treated  it  with  becoming  reverence. 
No  shadow  born  of  their  common  sin  arose  to  sever 
them,  as  she  had  dreaded.  Indeed,  its  memory  seemed 
only  to  add  sweetness  to  their  intercourse. 

As  for  his  vows  and  genial  projects,  their  number  was 
as  the  grains  of  sand  upon  the  shore.  At  the  outset,  the 
marriage  would  most  certainly  take  place  before  the  end 
of  the  current  month.  He  and  De  Morin  had  been  ar- 
ranging the  ceremonial  "only  the  other  day."  Then, 
with  the  obstinate  approach  of  Christmas,  it  became 
necessary  to  change  the  date  to  the  first  week  of  the 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  531 

new  year.  Specious  pretexts  never  failed  for  each  fresh 
postponement.  He  was  threatened  with  a  ministerial 
crisis.  De  Morin  had  the  gout,  and  could  not  superin- 
tend the  details,  arranged  "only  the  other  day."  Some- 
times Muriel  touched  upon  the  public  announcement. 
His  answer  to  that  always  came  pat.  "We  cannot  hide 
from  ourselves,"  he  invariably  said,  "that  our  marriage 
will  raise  a  deal  of  opposition.  All  my  advisers  admit 
so  much.  We  must  not  give  it  time  to  grow.  A  fort- 
night from  start  to  finish  will  have  to  see  the  whole  thing 
through.  The  announcement  shall  be  made  the  instant 
we  have  settled  our  date.  Patience,  my  darling." 

Thus  he  wove  a  network  of  lies  round  both  of 
them.  And,  as  time  went  on,  he  dare  not  move  a  step 
within  the  narrowing  area,  fearful  lest  he  might  trip  and 
lay  bare  his  villainy.  Not  that  he  did  not  love  her;  but 
it  was  easier  to  tell  lies  than  to  fight  his  mistress.  He 
fully  meant  to  marry  her. 

They  were  soothing  enough,  these  vows  and  pro- 
jects, and  daily  letters  breathing  love.  And  here  it  may 
be  remarked  parenthetically  that  the  girl  was  not  un- 
grateful. She  repaid  her  lover's  devotion  with  as  much 
cheerfulness  as  she  could  manage,  and  as  few  questions. 
Unfortunately,  however,  these  diversions  took  up  only  a 
quarter  of  her  time.  Many  an  hour  was  left  for  sombre 
reflections.  Truly,  she  had  food  for  them.  Her  father 
gave  no  sign  of  relenting.  De  Morin's  kind  offices  put 
her  in  communication  with  her  mother:  poor  Henriette 
wrote  every  day.  These  epistles,  meagre  in  respect  of 
all  things  except  lamentations,  kept  her  fairly  well  in- 
formed of  her  kinsmen's  movements.  An  occasional 
English  newspaper  supplemented  what  she  knew.  The 
gap  widened  every  day.  Her  sceptre  would  have  to  be 
long  indeed  to  span  it.  Her  walks  invariably  ended 
somewhere  near  the  Villa  Henriette.  One  afternoon  she 
crossed  the  bridge  to  find  all  further  progress  barred 
by  a  boarding  which  declared  the  house  and  grounds  for 
sale.  The  same  night  her  mother  wrote  that  number 
forty-seven  had  already  been  disposed  of.  A  stray  Times 
mentioned  that  the  new  Viceroy  had  left  town  for  Tipton- 
St.  John;  and  that  his  Excellency  proposed  to  sail  upon 


532  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

the  Thursday  week.  An  equally  haphazard  Figaro  in- 
formed an  astonished  world  that  the  Honourable  Charles 
Mendril  had  been  attached  to  the  British  embassy  as 
third  secretary. 

Her  favourite  pastime  during  these  hours  of  solitude 
was  to  piece  out  such  scanty  data,  and,  with  the  aid  of 
details  supplied  by  her  sharpened  memory,  live  their  life 
along  with  them  from  day  to  day.  "  Father  and  Walter 
have  just  returned  from  hunting,"  she  would  whisper  of 
an  evening.  She  could  see  them  drawing  rein  before 
the  stable  gates,  splashed  to  their  shoulders  with  red 
earth,  half  hidden  in  the  steam  of  their  panting  horses. 
Or,  again,  having  this  to  go  upon  that  they  were  back  in 
London  and  busy  buying.  She  would  picture  her  mother 
oscillating  between  shops  and  stores.  "  Dear  mother," 
the  girl  would  say,  finding  now  how  much  she  loved  her, 
"I  am  sure  she  has  already  discovered  that  India  will 
be  detestable."  Those  real  figures  had  gone  to  people 
her  castles  in  the  air.  She  began  to  think  of  them  as 
of  some  desired  dream  long  faded.  They  soothed  her 
restless  days.  These,  alas,  were  as  numerous  as  Napo- 
leon's promises.  Who  is  not  restless,  who  lives  in  the 
past  and  in  the  future,  and  has  no  uses  for  the  present  ? 
Once  Nicholas  Fersen  wrote.  From  Russia,  whither  he 
had  gone,  in  ignorance,  the  very  morning  after  the  tragedy. 
His  letter  showed  that  he  had  heard  since.  Its  delicate 
tact  went  straight  to  her  poor  heart.  He  said  no  word 
about  his  own  longings,  thus  ruthlessly  shattered,  and 
his  despair. 

For  an  entire  month,  indeed,  her  solitude  was  but 
once  broken  by  outside  visitors.  It  was  a  certain  after- 
noon, and  she  was  reclining  not  over-gracefully  in  her 
easy-chair,  idly  turning  the  pages  that  told  about  Cash- 
mere. A  smile  still  hovered  upon  her  lips.  Napoleon 
was  but  that  moment  gone,  after  a  morning  spent  in  her 
company.  He  had  arrived  from  Paris  close  on  ten, — 
a  thing  before  unheard  of, —  his  face  bearing  all  the 
signs  of  genuine  depression.  This  token  of  his  growing 
dependence  flattered  her.  She  had  done  her  utmost  to 
dissipate  his  gloom,  and  with  complete  success.  Neither 
of  them  had  ever  talked  more  gaily  or  with  greater  con- 


THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON  533 

fidence  of  their  future  life.  The  hours  flew  by.  At 
last  Napoleon  had  had  to  tear  himself  away,  his  fare- 
well a  declaration  (made  in  all  good  faith)  that  this  visit 
had  strengthened  him  more  than  words  could  tell.  She 
looked  at  Shrinagar,  Jumn,  and  Leh,  in  their  many 
shapes,  and  thought  only  of  Paris.  She  tried  to  follow 
the  courses  of  the  Jhelam  River;  while  all  the  time  she 
could  not  get  away  from  the  ermine  marriage-cloak, 
whereof  Napoleon  had  spoken.  Eugenie  entered. 

"Two  gentlemen  and  a  little  boy  to  see  your  High- 
ness." 

"Have  they  not  told  you  their  names?  "  she  asked, 
bewildered. 

"No,  Muriel,  we  have  not,"  said  a  stern  voice,  over 
Eugenie's  shoulder.  And  the  Honourable  Charles  Men- 
dril  walked  sombrely  into  the  room,  followed  at  a  rever- 
ential distance  by  his  uncle  Louis  and  his  uncle  Louis' 
little  boy. 

"Why,  dear  Charles,"  cried  the  girl,  springing  out 
of  her  chair,  "this  is  a  surprise.  And  you,  dear  uncle 
Louis, — and  Paul  too, —  how  kind  of  you  to  come. 
You  will  have  lunch,  of  course." 

A  faint  look  of  astonishment  passed  across  Charles's 
face.  He  had  come  forth  to  see  an  interesting  penitent 
garbed  in  sorrow  and  deep  black.  Yet,  here  was  she 
dressed  in  white  (in  white,  ye  gods!),  bearing  no  sign  of 
her  sin  blazoned  on  her  brow;  not  a  whit  altered  from 
the  clean-faced  Muriel  of  other  days.  The  ways  of 
wrong-doers  are  inscrutable.  He  had  not  come  to  curse 
her,  indeed  his  heart  had  been  moved  to  a  vast  compas- 
sion by  the  whiffs  of  hot  mutton  in  the  hall;  but  he 
couldn't  stand  this.  He  repulsed  her  coldly;  and  drew 
himself  up  to  his  full  five  foot  four  and  a  half. 

She  copied  his  movement.  Her  greater  height  gave 
her  a  distinct  advantage. 

"Uncle  Louis,"  said  he  sepulchrally,  his  eyes  still 
fixed  upon  his  erring  sister,  "  you  and  Paul  will  kindly 
leave  us  together  for  a  few  minutes.  I  have  something 
to  say  to  Muriel." 

"Uncle  Louis,"  she  added  fiercely,  "you  will  please 
remain  where  you  are.  /  have  nothing  to  say  to  my 


534  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

brother  except  this  :  if  his  only  purpose  in  coming  was 
to  insult  me,  he  had  far  better  have  stayed  away.  Paul, 
won't  you  kiss  me?  " 

The  boy  ran  forward  with  great  readiness  to  fling  his 
arms  round  her  neck.  His  father  likewise  advanced  to 
salute  her.  He  was  a  man  of  kindly  nature.  Besides, 
he  had  had  a  little  tiff  with  the  Honourable  Charles  in  the 
train. 

When,  a  Sunday  or  so  before,  young  Mendril  sug- 
gested this  visit,  Monsieur  de  Murinac  jumped  at  it  as  a 
very  noble  idea.  And  nothing  arose  to  mar  this  perfect 
accord,  to  within  half  an  hour  of  their  journey's  end. 
Charles  had  beguiled  the  tedium  of  the  way  with  an  ac- 
count of  his  daily  life  and  policy,  what  time  he  should 
become  Premier.  Uncle  de  Murinac  devoured  sand- 
wiches; pretended  to  listen,  and  did  n't.  Paul  devoured 
sandwiches,  and  did  not  pretend.  "I  suppose  you  are 
very  clever, "  Louis  had  remarked  at  the  end  of  his  last 
piece  of  ham.  Charles  had  smiled  and  bowed;  he  per- 
mitted himself  these  little  indiscretions  in  his  uncle's 
company.  "You,  also,  uncle,  are  clever  enough,"  he 
had  responded  affably,  "  only  you  have  no  application. 
We  shall  write  on  your  tombstone,  '  Here  lies  Louis 
de  Murinac,  ruined  by  a  blue  pencil.'  "  The  shot  had 
gone  home.  Louis  started  and  flushed  scarlet.  Only 
that  moment  he  had  been  meditating  a  magnificent 
scheme  of  repudiation,  which  should  chalk  out  the  debtor 
side  of  "  hours  wasted,"  and  which  should  start  afresh 
with  a  clean  sheet  on  January  i,  proximate,  189-.  That  is 
the  reason  why  he  kissed  his  niece  with  additional  fervour. 

Charles  stood  apart,  his  arms  folded.  He  waited  until 
these  salutations  were  quite  finished:  his  patience  was 
displayed  with  much  elaboration. 

"Very  well,"  said  he,  when  they  were  ready,  "you 
can  please  yourself.  I  made  the  suggestion  for  your 
own  sake.  If  you  prefer  them  to  remain  and  overhear, 
I  have  no  objection.  Uncle — Paul — kindly  seat  your- 
selves." 

"It  is  for  me  to  say  that,  not  you." 

"  I  know, "  muttered  the  future  Premier  with  bitter 
significance. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  535 

"Uncle,"  the  girl  pursued,  "will  you  and  Paul  not 
take  something  to  eat?  You  must  be  hungry." 

Louis  looked  wistfully  across  at  his  nephew.  "I 
have  had  some  sandwiches,  thank  you."  The  faintness 
of  his  voice  showed  that  he  had  not  originally  intended 
them  as  final. 

"  Enough  of  this,"  cried  the  future  Premier  from  the 
opposite  corner, — he  had  retreated  before  the  unclean 
thing.  "We  have  not  come  for  food.  We  have  busi- 
ness together,  you  and  I,  my  sister.  You  must  be  good 
enough  to  favour  me  with  your  best  attention," 

"  I  refuse  to  listen  to  you.  This  is  my  ho—  this  is  my 
room.  If  you  choose  to  behave  as  any  decent  brother 
would  do,  as  Walter  would  behave,  if  he  were  here,  you 
are  welcome  to  stop.  If  you  do  n't  choose,  then  go!  I 
won't  be  lectured  by  anyone,  least  of  all  by  you." 

He  gazed  at  her  with  lofty  contempt.  "  I  was  pre- 
pared for  this,"  said  he.  "You  ought  to  know  by  now 
that  I  am  not  the  sort  of  man  to  be  intimidated  by  shrill 
violence."  He  put  one  hand  behind  his  back,  the  fore- 
finger of  the  other  he  lifted  in  stern  admonition. 

"Now,  Muriel,  no  equivocation!  Tell  me  candidly, 
what  do  you  mean  to  do?  " 

For  the  minute  rage  rendered  her  speechless. 

"I  ask  you,"  he  continued,  "as  much  for  your  sake 
as  for  mine.  One  thing  is  clear;  you  cannot  pursue  this 
mode  of  life,"  and  he  surveyed  the  much-decorated 
room  with  the  thunder  of  half  a  dozen  Hebrew  prophets 
upon  his  brow.  "You  cannot  return  to  my  mother. 
Uncle  Louis  remains.  But  would  it  be  fair  to  cast  such 
a  burden  on  our  kinsman's  back?  I  venture  to  think 
not."  Uncle  Louis  nodded  a  gloomy  assent.  "Muriel, 
can  you  answer  my  question?  What  do  you  mean  to  do? 
Where  are  you  going?  " 

If  her  clenched  hand  had  clasped  some  weapon  at 
that  minute,  she  would  have  killed  him. 

"You  loathsome  coward — " 

"Tush!  no  recriminations,  I  beg.  Let  us  be  reason- 
able, my  sister.  I  have  not  come  to  rake  up  the  bitter 
past;  to  rub  your  sores  afresh  with  vinegar.  I  am  not 
of  that  sort.  My  one  desire  is  to  help  you.  I  want  to 


536  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

save  you  from  this  life  of  sin.  It  is  my  duty  to  stretch 
out  a  strong  arm  for  you  to  lean  upon.  True,  you  have 
smirched  our  name.  True,  you  have  broken  my  mother's 
heart;  behold,  I  do  not  come  to  chide  you  for  it.  Nor 
do  I  intend  to  censure  you  for  the  harm  you  have  done 
me.  My  sister,  are  you  aware  " — this  last  with  a  touch 
of  divinely  condescending  pity — "  that  you  have  put  me 
back  some  five  years  in  my  career.  Lo,  I  forgive  you. 
Thank  God  I  am  strong;  I  can  bear  it.  I  am  not  afraid. 
My  bark  will  get  home  just  as  soon  as  Walter's.  No, 
Muriel,  I  forgive  you;  and  I  come  thinking  only  of  you. 
My  sister,  you  have  not  answered  my  question.  What  do 
you  propose  to  do?  " 

"I  do  not  want  your  help,  you  conceited  meddler. 
You  conceited  fool!  you  selfish,  conceited,  ignorant 
fool !  ' '  She  kept  crying  with  the  poverty  of  epithet  which 
generally  results  from  a  wealth  of  passion.  "I  com- 
mand you  to  leave  this  room." 

"Your  career!"  she  went  on,  shrilly  laughing; 
"that's  all  you  care  about,  your  precious  career!  You 
have  come  to  lecture  me;  let  me  give  you  this  one  word 
in  return.  You  are  too  vain  and  vacillating  ever  to  do 
anything.  Walter  beat  you  at  school:  he  took  the  degree 
which  you  could  not," — she  meant  pass  finals, — "  and  yet 
you  fancy  yourself  to  be  much  his  superior.  You  are 
always  chopping  and  changing  about.  The  only  thing 
you  do  with  any  consistency  is  to  blow  your  own  trum- 
pet. Now  go,  you  miserable  coward." 

Some  of  her  arrows  went  home.  His  yellow  face 
flushed  crimson.  The  ugly  words  wherewith  he  was 
accustomed  to  describe  her  in  his  own  mind  nearly  burst 
forth  in  a  foul  torrent  of  vituperation.  But  he  restrained 
himself. 

A  small  voice  within  him  kept  whispering,  "  Now, 
Charles,  rise  to  the  occasion.  Be  worthy,  my  esteemed 
young  friend,  of  your  future  destiny.  A  chance  has  come 
to  prove  your  metal.  Charles,  be  great!  " 

His  greatness  took  the  form  of  a  sickly  simper. 

"Muriel,  you  push  me  very  hard,  but  you  sha'n't 
drive  me  from  my  purpose.  You  cannot  reply  to  my 
question.  Very  well,  I  will  supply  the  answer  for  you. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  537 

Listen,  my  sister.  I  suggest  a  convent.  More  than  that. 
I  have  been  to  see  the  reverend  mothers  of  the  Assump- 
tion at  Auteuil.  They  know  your  story.  Provided  you 
can  assure  them  that  there  is  no  likelihood  of  any  untow- 
ard consequences — " 

"Really,  Charles,"  the  patient  Louis  was  driven  to 
exclaim. 

"Untoward  consequences,"  the  Premier  persisted, 
"  resulting  from  your  lapse  from  the  path  of  virtue,  they 
will  give  you  a  haven  of  rest." 

"You  shall  pay  for  this,  you  coward,"  she  almost 
shouted.  "You  shall  pay  for  this,  when  I  am  married." 

"My  poor  child,"  soothingly,  "who  would  marry  you?" 

"When  I  am  Empress,  you  may  go  to  some  other 
embassy  then;  you  sha'n't  stay  in  France." 

"  I  shall  stay  in  France  just  as  long  as  I  choose.  Who 
is  to  turn  me  out,  I  should  like  to  know?  " 

"I." 

"Listen  to  her,"  then  he  stopped  short. 

"  Muriel,  your  violence  is  enough  to  provoke  an  angel. 
I  do  not  mean  to  lose  my  temper  with  you." 

"What  do  I  care  what  you  mean  or  not?  Who  are 
you,  that  you  should  come  and  preach  to  me?  Don't 
fancy  that  I  don't  know,  you  wretch!  I  know  well 
enough  that  father  had  occasion  only  this  spring  to 
reprove  you  for  some  secret  vice,  you  ugly,  vicious 
hypocrite." 

Charles  caught  his  breath. 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  he  cried.  "You  have 
been  prying  into  father's  letters.  What  a  fool  I  am  to 
suppose  that  one  can  do  anything  for  a  degraded  woman 
like  this.  Live  on  as  the  Emperor's  mistress,  you  filthy- 
minded  harlot!  It  is  all  one  to  me." 

And  then  a  curious  thing  happened.  Louis,  who  had 
sat  all  this  while  dangling  his  legs  and  gloomily  survey- 
ing the  combatants,  suddenly  roused  himself  from  his 
torpor.  It  was  nature  reasserting  herself.  The  man 
had  come  to  one  score  years  before  the  eldest  of  these 
wrangling  children  was  begotten. 

"  No  more  of  this,  you  miserable  creatures,"  he  inter- 
posed. His  decided  tones  startled  them  amid  their  anger. 


538  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  Charles,  I  did  wrong  to  let  you  come.  You  are  unfitted 
for  a  task  like  this.  Be  good  enough  to  leave  us.  You 
make  me  feel  quite  ashamed  of  myself.  You  may  take 
the  first  train  back  to  Paris.  Paul  and  I  will  return 
later." 

The  Right  Honourable  gentleman  actually  obeyed 
these  curt  directions.  He  slunk  out  of  the  room.  He 
slinks  out  of  this  narrative  at  the  same  time.  It  may 
seem  unnecessary  to  add  that  England  still  awaits  her 
great  patrician  premier. 

Louis'  demeanour  towards  his  niece  was  at  the  outset 
not  much  less  severe.  He  bade  her  go  and  bathe  her 
head  in  cold  water.  The  ruling  passion  strong  in  death! 
he  always  douched  his  own  beard  and  chestnut  locks 
after  wasted  mornings  and  massacred  schemes.  She 
returned  refreshed,  and  Louis  resumed  his  usual  gen- 
tleness. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  passed  pleasantly.  The 
visitors  supplemented  their  sandwiches;  then  the  three 
of  them  went  down  to  the  river,  and  scaled  my  Lord's 
hoarding.  De  Murinac  enjoyed  himself  immensely.  His 
visits  to  the  Villa  Henriette,  since  his  boyhood,  had 
neither  been  few  nor  far  between.  But  he  chose  to  regard 
this  present  one  as  a  renewal  of  acquaintance  after  long 
years.  He  determined  to  date  his  new  scheme  of  life 
from  that  hour  and  that  place.  Perhaps  it  was  the  No- 
vember sun.  Perhaps  it  was  the  hoarding.  Perhaps  it 
was  only  the  luncheon,  and  the  Emperor's  port.  Any- 
how, he  became  very  sentimental,  and  made  voluminous 
notes. 

On  their  way  back,  Muriel  talked  to  them  unceasingly 
of  Napoleon's  kindness  and  devotion.  Tea  came  as  a 
valuable  ally.  The  girl  waited  until  her  uncle  was  redo- 
lent of  hot  buttered  toast  to  proffer  a  request,  which 
had  been  long  in  her  mind.  It  amounted  to  nothing  less 
than  this:  that  Paul  might  be  permitted  to  stay  on,  then 
and  there,  for  at  least  a  week.  Louis  looked  puzzled. 
His  niece  added,  with  a  smile,  that  she  would  make  it 
straight  with  the  boy's  employer.  So  the  matter  settled 
itself.  And  Uncle  Louis,  having  kissed  both  children 
with  much  fervour,  went  off  into  the  night. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  539 

Twenty  years  labor,  at  a  ripe  old  age,  he  was  discov- 
ered one  morning  dead  in  his  library,  seated  before  his 
desk,  pen  in  hand,  in  front  of  him  a  nearly  blank  sheet 
of  blue  paper  bearing  these  enigmatical  words:  "Mon- 
days, rise  at  seven." 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Napoleon  found  these 
weeks  any  the  more  endurable.  His  great  victories  had 
earned  him  peace  without  bringing  it.  Barely  two 
months  were  gone  by  since  the  Preliminaries  of  La 
Grange-en-Haye,  and  his  advisers  spent  night  and  day  in 
attempting  to  manipulate  an  offensive  Franco-Russian 
alliance  against  England.  Her  size,  her  insolence,  her 
predatory  instincts  —  they  kept  dinning  —  hampered  the 
legitimate  development  of  France  in  every  quarter  of 
the  globe.  "Go  to  Egypt,"  sang  one  journal,  "you 
find  perfidious  Albion  basking  among  the  other  croco- 
diles upon  the  sludge  of  the  Lower  Nile.  Turn  your 
thoughts  to  the  far  East," — the  writer  was  apostrophis- 
ing Madame  La  Belle  France, — "you  discover  her  lurk- 
ing within  the  shrines  of  Mukden  and  behind  the  curtains 
of  Seoul.  Like  Satan,  she  is  everywhere. "  His  eleva- 
tion to  the  throne  implied  a  mandate  to  humble  this 
sinister  power  in  the  dust.  As  Prehlen  pithily  puts  it, 
"  Britannia  has  done  her  thieving;  so  she  wants  to  call 
'time.'  Properly  speaking,  we  have  n't  begun  ours." 

The  Russian  ambassador,  moreover,  had  a  little  side 
solo  all  to  himself.  It  dealt  with  the  Grand  Duchess 
Catharine,  daughter  of  Peter,  and  her  glorious  hair. 

Never  a  day  passed  without  some  attempt  on  the 
part  of  one  or  other  of  the  agitators  to  advance  their 
cause.  Prehlen  presented  himself  with  the  freedom  of 
the  Elysee.  He  turned  up  directly  after  breakfast,  and 
the  last  thing  at  night.  Napoleon,  re-entering  his  library 
from  his  lunch,  would  find  him  eating  sandwiches  in  a 
distant  corner.  Signs  of  him  began  to  scatter  the  whole 
room.  Once,  indeed,  he  managed  to  leave  a  portrait  of 
the  Princess  upon  the  Imperial  mantelpiece:  finding  it 
gone  on  the  occasion  of  his  next  visit,  he  left  another. 
Godefroy  got  this  one  also,  and  nailed  it  next  its  prede- 
cessor in  his  pantry.  Prehlen  was  not  to  know  that.  He 
preferred  rather  to  believe  that  his  seed  had  fallen  on  good 


540  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

ground.  He  put  in  his  next  despatch  that  his  Majesty 
carried  both  presentments  next  his  heart.  They  were 
cabinet  size. 

With  regard  to  the  Grand  Duchess,  the  Russian 
government  was  prepared  to  give  instant  delivery. 
Their  military  propositions  seemed  a  trifle  hazier.  As 
far  as  Napoleon  could  discover,  they  suggested  that 
France  should  "humble  perfidious  Albion  in  the  dust." 
In  return  for  which  the  Queen's  Eastern  possessions 
were  to  be  transferred  en  bloc  to  their  own  benevo- 
lent keeping.  Certainly,  the  wise  Norwegian  left  this 
department  to  other  hands.  The  Premier,  so  to  speak, 
did  turns  with  his  Excellency.  No  sooner  had  the  latter 
relieved  Majesty  of  his  presence,  when  the  door  would 
open  upon  Carache. 

Sometimes  the  latter  came  alone,  and  spent  a  cheer- 
ful hour  in  monologue.  Sometimes  he  brought  Mesnil. 
The  Marshal  invariably  presented  a  neutral  attitude. 
"Whether  you  go  to  war  with  England,  or  whether  you 
do  n't,  'tis  all  the  same  to  me,"  it  seemed  to  say;  "  only 
here  are  maps."  Each  time,  too,  he  showed  conclu- 
sively that  he  could  be  in  possession  of  the  Mansion 
House — "the  seat  of  government" — within  three  days 
of  landing,  provided,  of  course,  Fre"ron  was  not  lying 
about  the  fleet.  And  each  time,  Napoleon  would  meet 
him  with  the  selfsame  answer:  "My  dear  Mesnil,  you 
are  a  terrible  fellow.  You  would  only  have  to  show 
yourself  in  Parliament  Square  to  send  every  public  man 
post-haste  into  private  life.  I  trust  you  won't  forget 
the  Temple.  Several  clever  men  of  my  acquaintance 
would  be  only  too  glad  to  have  it  razed  to  the  ground." 
Whereupon  the  little  strategist  would  bow  and  shrug  his 
shoulders,  as  if  to  say,  "I  don't  care  one  way  or  the 
other;  only  here  are  maps." 

In  Muriel's  matter,  however,  his  advisers  adopted 
quite  other  tactics.  They  simply  burked  discussion. 
Carache,  Ponte"coulant,  even  De  Morin,  became  dumb  at 
once  when  he  tried  the  topic.  They  treated  Meaux  as 
forbidden  ground.  The  nearest  the  Premier  got  to  it 
was  to  ask  sometimes  if  the  Princess  entertained  hopes 
of — "your  Majesty  understands  my  meaning."  And 


THE   FOURTH    NAPOLEON  541 

then  his  Majesty  merely  blushed,  without  answering. 
Prehlen,  whenever  Napoleon  hinted  an  obstacle  to  his 
union  with  the  beauteous  Catharine,  would  laugh  and 
look  knowing.  This  silent,  soft  impeachment  of  being 
•' something  of  a  fellow,"  my  Lord  always  met  with  much 
complaisance. 

Meanwhile,  at  all  events  he  had  his  loved  one  with 
him.  She  gave  him  all  he  asked ;  she  was  altogether 
his.  Except  himself,  she  saw  no  one.  Except  himself, 
perhaps,  no  one  loved  her.  What  had  he  done  to  be  so 
fortunate?  And  being  so  fortunate,  surely  a  little  pro- 
crastination could  do  them  neither  any  harm.  He  was 
able  to  bear  it. 

At  the  commencement,  Napoleon  had  sternly  limited 
himself  to  two  visits  weekly.  As  time  went  on,  however, 
his  need  of  her  increased.  He  came  more  often,  and 
stopped  longer.  At  last  the  larger  half  of  his  month 
seemed  to  be  passed  in  her  company.  Thus  that  memo- 
rable day  of  many  visitors  —  it  may  be  remembered  — 
included  himself.  On  leaving,  he  had  stated  specifically 
that  it  would  be  a  full  week  before  his  return.  He  came 
again  two  days  later. 

He  entered  her  room  unannounced.  She  and  Paul 
de  Murinac  had  their  heads  bent  over  a  letter,  which  the 
lad  was  sending  to  Avize.  It  appeared  to  amuse  them 
immensely.  The  missive  inquired  reverently  enough 
how  Louis  XIV  progressed:  the  joke  lay  in  an  inset 
picture  wherewith  the  scribe  had  embellished  his  text. 
It  showed  his  home,  with  Marie  —  an  ancient  nurse  of 
theirs  —  taking  refuge  on  the  roof  from  the  attacks  of 
an  infuriated  bull.  Majesty  crept  up  gently  to  throw 
his  shadow  upon  this  primitive  design.  Muriel  and  he 
exchanged  most  affectionate  greetings.  It  pleased  Paul 
to  see  their  devotion;  but  he  rather  wondered  at  it,  all 
the  same.  He  gazed  at  them,  his  brown  eyes  wide- 
staring.  Napoleon  smiled  back  with  indulgence. 

"Who  gave  my  little  page  leave  to  absent  himself 
from  his  duties?" 

"I  did,"  cried  Muriel. 

"  I  am  dumb.  But  suppose,  during  this  little  holiday 
of  his,  some  one  had  made  a  successful  attempt  upon 


542  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

the  life  of  his  sovereign,  what  would  Monsieur  de 
Murinac  have  said  then?" 

Monsieur  de  Murinac  looked  shocked  beyond  words. 

"Sire,"  he  stumbled  out  with  trembling  voice,  "I 
did  not  know.  I  imagined  the  others  were  sufficient." 

"  Do  not  tease  the  boy.  Come  here,  Paul,  and  tell 
his  Majesty  sternly  that  you  won't  be  teased." 

"Well,  well,  Monsieur,"  Napoleon  went  on,  wag- 
ging a  finger  at  him,  "  we  won't  say  anything  more 
about  it.  But  understand,  I  sha'n't  rest  securely  in  my 
bed  until  I  have  you  back  in  the  Palace.  It  is  some- 
thing to  feel  that  you  are  ever  at  hand  to  defend  your 
sovereign  with  your  little  person.  Our  duties,  Monsieur, 
do  not  bring  us  often  together.  Nevertheless,  rest 
assured  I  already  know  that  I  do  not  number  in  my 
whole  household  a  more  devoted  servant  than  your  little 
self." 

This  harangue  gave  great  pleasure  to  the  three  of 
them.  Paul  bowed  as  ceremoniously  as  he  could,  seeing 
that  Muriel  already  had  her  arms  round  her  cousin's 
neck.  "Listen  to  that,"  she  exclaimed,  unaffectedly 
jubilant.  Then  she  pulled  him  into  a  corner  of  her 
capacious  chair;  and  the  boy,  his  hand  clasped  in  her's, 
gazed  admiringly  across  at  Napoleon,  whose  pale  face 
shone  out  from  the  darkness  made  by  the  deep  shaded 
lamp.  The  child  accepted  the  adventure  as  a  peep  into 
Elysium.  He  marvelled  at  Muriel's  confidence  and  ease 
in  the  presence  of  this  mighty  Alexander.  He  envied 
her  as  well.  He  drank  in  their  words  with  greedy  ears. 
Napoleon's  commonplaces  won  an  importance  they  never 
obtained  anywhere  else.  Before  long  our  young  friend's 
eager  attention  grew  so  marked,  that  the  Emperor  passed 
unconsciously  under  his  sway.  He  liked  homage  and 
an  audience;  but  he  had  never  received  it  in  quite  such 
wagon-loads  as  this.  His  flow  of  harmless  little  affecta- 
tions diminished  in  volume  till  it  dried  up  altogether. 
He  laughed  and  reddened.  Presently  he  commenced  to 
fidget  in  his  chair. 

Muriel  laughed  too.  She  tapped  her  cousin's 
shoulder.  "Paul,  you  must  not  stare  at  Wai — at  his 
Majesty.  Where  are  your  manners?  " 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  543 

The  boy  dropped  his  eyes,  greatly  confused. 

"  Paul  fancies  that  we  are  about  to  disclose  some 
secrets  of  state.  Confess,  Monsieur,  you  are  dying  to 
know  whether  the  English  have  really  landed  in  Asia 
Minor. " 

"No,  your  Majesty,  it  was  not  that,"  Paul  blurted 
out  in  obvious  reluctance. 

"What  was  it,  then?  "  The  Emperor  commenced  to 
wag  his  finger.  It  was  his  one  way  of  propitiating 
"  young  persons  "  under  the  age  of  sixteen. 

"  I  was  wondering  why  people  told  such  lies  about 
your  Majesty." 

Muriel  coloured;  and,  mostly  for  her  own  sake,  tried 
to  check  him.  Napoleon  possessed  a  larger  soul. 
"Don't  stop  him,"  he  interposed  good-naturedly. 
"And  what  lies  do  they  tell  abo'ut  us — me,  my  little 
man?  " 

"  They  say  that  Marshal  Mesnil  won  the  battle  of 
Parfondrupt. " 

"Oh,  indeed,"  cried  the  Emperor.  His  large  soul 
could  n't  quite  swallow  that.  "  They  say  that,  do 
they?  And  where  was  I — hein?  " 

"  They  say  that  you  were  over  at  La  Grange-en-Haye, 
in  bed." 

Somehow  Muriel  did  not  feel  quite  so  sorry  for  him 
as  she  ought  to  have  done.  But  she  rescued  him  with 
forgiving  promptitude. 

"All  great  men  are  maligned,"  said  she,  softly 
bringing  her  cousin's  face  round  to  meet  her  own.  "As 
a  matter  of  fact  it  was  Marshal  Mesnil  who  was  in  bed 
at  La  Grange-en-Haye.  The  Emperor  had  to  take  com- 
mand in  person,  a  most  unusual  thing." 

And  so  she  covered  his  retreat. 

The  next  time  Paul  intervened  in  the  conversation  it 
was  to  refer  to  what  Napoleon  had  just  said  about  the 
draughts  in  the  Elyse*e. 

"I  hope,"  the  boy  exclaimed,  "Cousin  Muriel's 
rooms  will  be  free." 

"  You  mean  to  use  them,   you  little  rogue." 

"I  shall  sit  there  when  she  invites  me."  Nothing 
could  move  this  young  hidalgo  from  his  natural  dignity. 


544  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"  Tell  me,  Paul,  what  favor  do  you  intend  to  demand 
on  Muriel's  wedding-day?  " 

"When  is  the  marriage  to  be?"  asked  Paul,  rumi- 
nating. 

"  The  first  week  in  January,"  this  very  promptly. 

"  I  shall  ask  for  my  commission  in  the  Emperor's 
life-guards." 

"  But,  you  young  monkey,  we  do  n't  take  soldiers  at 
your  age. ' ' 

"  I  shall  be  thirteen  on  Christmas  eve.  Some  of  the 
younger  officers  are  only  seventeen." 

"  Not  nowadays." 

"  I  will  have  my  commission  to  keep  until  I  can 
use  it." 

"  You  are  entitled  to  it.     Choose  something  else." 

"  I  want  nothing.     I  am  perfectly  contented." 

"  Happy  man!  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  do  remember  something." 

"Out  with  it." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  Yvonne  to  stay  for  a  week  at 
the  Elyse"e." 

"  You  must  go  to  her  Majesty  to  do  that  for  you. 
She  and  Monsieur  de  Morin  will  keep  those  matters  in 
their  hands." 

"  There  is  nothing  else." 

He  spoke  three  minutes  too  soon.  Eugenie  glided  in 
and  beckoned  him  from  the  Presence. 

"  Monsieur  Paul,  your  hot  water  is  in  your  bed- 
room." 

He  felt  tempted  to  ask  whether  Napoleon's  offer 
was  still  open  and  carried  with  it  the  rights  of  anticipa- 
tion. But  a  future  officer  in  the  life-guards  must  show 
that  he  knows  how  to  obey.  He  obeyed.  He  bowed  to 
Napoleon  and  the  inevitable;  kissed  Muriel,  and  with- 
drew. 

"  He  is  a  fine  lad,"  said  the  Emperor.  "  Your  uncle 
Louis  has  been  here?  " 

"  I  told  you  so  in  my  letter." 

"  I  recollect.     And  your  brother." 

The  girl's  face  darkened. 

"Walter,"  she  began.       She   called   him  Walter  by 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  545 

special  request.     He  liked  to  be  reminded  of  his  forty 
years'  wandering  in  the  wilderness.     Who  does  not? 

He  straightway  commenced  to  soothe  her. 

"  There,  darling,  do  n't  think  about  the  wretched 
fellow.  I  will  hint  to  Lord  Threpps  that  I  should  prefer 
him  in  another  sphere  of  activity.  It  is  rather  a  steam- 
hammer  to  crack  a  filbert,"  he  added  laughingly;  "but 
I  make  no  doubt  the  thing  can  be  managed." 

"Please  do  not  do  such  a  thing,"  cries  this  poor 
little  Muriel.  "  I  would  not  interfere  with  the  wretched 
boy's  prospects  for  worlds.  He  is  only  silly  and  young. " 

"  He  is  older  than  you." 

"Yes,"  sombrely;  "but  I  am  having  a  harder 
training." 

He  became  gloomy  at  once. 

"  God  knows,"  he  exclaimed,  "we  both  are  having 
that.  I  am,  I  know.  To-day  for  five  mortal  hours — 
five  mortal  hours,  Muriel! — I  have  heard  nothing  but 
Russia,  Russia,  Russia.  They  sha'n't  make  me  fight  Eng- 
land. I  won't  marr —  march  into  Belgium.  I  have  had 
enough  of  war." 

"Beloved,"  he  went  on,  converting  his  anger  into 
deep  pathos,  "  you  do  n't  know  how  this  constant  worry 
affects  me.  It  is  quite  certain  that  my  health  is  gravely 
impaired." 

"We  won't  talk  any  more  horrid  business,"  she 
cried.  "  You  came  down  here  to  rest  your  poor  silly 
old  brain;  and  I  sha'n't  and  can't  have  you  worried." 
So  she  dashed  off  into  light-hearted  words,  and  won  for 
him  entire  forgetfulness  of  all  unpleasant  things;  but  not 
for  herself.  The  process  came  easy  to  her  from  con- 
stant practice.  How  often  had  he  turned  up  gloomy 
and  depressed,  or  suddenly  grown  so  in  the  very  midst  of 
laughter,  as  to-night.  She  would  have  to  pay  a  heavy 
price  for  the  ermine  robe.  She  began  to  see  that. 

"  Madame  Verre's  appearance  at  the  ball  last  night," 
laughed  her  lover  in  reply  to  something   she  had  said, 
"  made  a  great  sensation.     De  Morin  declares  she  ought 
never  to  have  been  admittted." 
"What  did  she  wear?  " 
"  Very  little.      Something  green,  and  shiny,   and  jin- 


546  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

gling.  She  looked  exactly  as  though  she  were  covered 
with  scales,  like  fish  from  the  Drury  Lane  pantomimes." 
"  She  wants  to  keep  the  Elysee  as  dowdy  as  it  was 
under  the  Republic." 

"  De  Morin  thinks  so.  I  said  to  him,  'My  dear 
Chamberlain,  how  are  we  to  stop  this  sort  of  thing?  '  " 

"And  he?  "  very,  very  eagerly. 

"You  little  sorceress,  I  believe  you  know  already. 
'  No  one  can  stop  it,'  he  replied,  'except  the  Empress.' 
So,  dearest,  you  will  have  your  work  cut  out  for  you." 

"  I  certainly  shall  not  let  her  present  herself  in  those 
clothes." 

"Darling,  you  need  not  look  so  indignant.  You,  as 
well,  will  find  it  a  difficult  matter  to  stop  her.  One  can- 
not turn  her  back  at  the  door.  The  Minister  of  the  In- 
terior would  soon  make  it  very  uncomfortable  for  my 
little  Empress,  if  she  tried  that  game  on.  You  will  be 
reduced  to  writing  on  the  back  of  the  cards,  '  Guest's  are 
expected  not  to  wear  fish-scales. '  ' 

She  laughed  merrily. 

"  Moreover,  Madame  has  her  uses.  She  has  grown 
very  fond  of  Monsieur  Prehlen;  it  must  be  those  long 
walks  at  Compiegne — "  he  broke  off  abruptly.  Of  one 
accord  their  eyes  left  each  other's  face  and  sought  the 
ground.  "  So  she  kept  him  from  me  the  whole  evening. 
I  paid  for  it  this  morning,  though." 

The  hateful  clock  gave  the  sign  for  parting.  "  Ten !  " 
he  muttered;  "  this  is  the  misery  of  all  my  visits.  You 
can't  conceive  how  I  hate  this  journey  to  Paris." 

"  You  have  a  brougham  at  both  ends,  and  a  compart- 
ment all  to  yourself.  You  are  not  so  greatly  to  be  pitied. ' ' 

"  I  do  n't  know." 

"No  grumbling?  "  she  cried,  springing  towards  the 
door.  On  her  way,  she  brushed  her  hand  lightly  across 
his  hair.  "  Come,  do  not  dawdle.  You  nearly  lost 
your  train  the  other  day,  you  know  you  did,  you  lazy 
fellow. " 

He  followed  into  the  passage  and  down  the  stairs. 
The  place  was  wrapt  in  silence.  Eugenie  and  her  hus- 
band had  retired.  Through  the  fanlight  of  the  front  door 
descending  Majesty  could  descry  a  tricolour  cockade. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  547 

Muriel  already  held  his  coat  outstretched.  He  smiled 
down  at  her  bright  upturned  face. 

"  Is  the  carriage  there?  "  she  called  out;  the  fanlight 
had  come  to  be  their  accepted  guide. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  slowly  descending  the  remaining 
flight.  "  It  's  early  enough,  in  all  conscience.  You 
country  people  do  not  care  how  long  your  visitors  have 
to  kick  their  heels  at  the  station,  provided  you  get  your 
proper  amount  of  sleep." 

She  shook  his  coat  at  him. 

"You  only  make  it  harder  for  me  to  tear  myself 
away. ' ' 

Without  more  words  she  forced  him  into  his  ample 
furs;  buttoned  the  throat-button  for  him,  leaving  him  to 
fasten  the  rest;  and,  holding  a  lapel  in  either  hand,  gazed 
a  single  instant  into  his  face.  Poor  thing,  it  was  the 
sole  means  left  her  whereby  to  hasten  the  date.  He 
darted  his  mouth  forward  and  kissed  her  full  upon  her 
lips.  Then  she  let  him  go. 

The  minute  after,  she  stood  alone  upon  the  porch, 
listening  to  his  wheels  that  crunched  along  the  drive 
towards  the  road.  The  sky  shone  with  the  brightness  of 
a  million  stars.  Afar  off  against  the  northern  horizon, 
one  could  descry  the  lines  of  undulating  wood,  picked 
out  with  here  and  there  a  twinkling  light.  The  circling 
path  beneath  her  lay  hardening  with  the  frost;  while 
along  its  surface  crept  the  chill  of  the  dying  year. 

She  did  not  feel  it  to  begin  with,  her  frame  still 
tingling  with  the  emotions  of  that  last  embrace.  Not 
many  minutes,  though,  and  it  prevailed.  It  caught  her 
feet,  this  icy  marauder,  and  held  them,  moved  slowly 
upwards  to  a  lodgment  in  her  heart.  "What  does  this 
mean?  "  she  murmured,  terror-stricken.  A  second  wave 
of  frost  rose  whispering;  she  had  no  need  to  ask  again: 
"You  are  his  mistress,"  it  murmured;  "you  will  never 
be  anything  else.  The  hope  you  bear  beneath  your 
bosom  will  come  neither  too  soon  nor  too  late.  Your 
child  will  be  your  shame,  as  you  are  his."  The  Em- 
peror's carriage  took  a  sudden  turn  into  a  nearer  road. 
Once  more  she  heard  the  grinding  of  his  wheels,  the 
clatter  of  his  horses  coming  back  to  her  through  the 


548  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

silence.  She  listened  to  them  growing  fainter  and 
fainter,  until  all  sound  of  them  disappeared  once  more — 
this  time  for  good  and  all. 

On  his  next  visit  he  brought  with  him  an  atmosphere 
of  gloom  that  was  invincible.  Muriel,  herself  despon- 
dent, made  but  half-hearted  attempts  to  cheer  him. 
Rather  she  fell  under  the  potent  spell  which  melancholy 
always  wields.  Even  Paul  succumbed.  His  smooth 
brow  darkened,  reflecting  theirs.  Happily  for  him,  his 
heart  had  neither  part  nor  parcel  in  their  sorrows. 

"  Paul,"  commenced  fretful  Majesty,  fumbling  in  his 
pockets,  "we  want  you  back  at  the  Elysee.  The  place  is 
not  properly  guarded  when  you  are  absent." 

"  Paul  is  too  young  to  understand  your  sarcasms." 

"God  knows  I  am  not  jesting,"  he  retorted  roughly. 
It  was  the  first  rude  word  he  had  ever  given  her.  He 
saw  how  she  winced  under  it,  and  his  heart  straightway 
softened. 

"Come, "he  added,  still  sad,  but  with  gentleness, 
"we  must  not  worry  this  young  man  with  our  concerns. 
Tell  me,  my  lad,  where  had  I  got  to  the  other  evening 
just  before  we  began  to  discuss  the  draughts  at  the 
Elyse*e?" 

The  boy's  eyes  glistened.  "You  were  telling  me  how 
you  rode  with  Caspar  Schmidt's  message  to  head- 
quarters." 

"  Ah,  yes.  I  recollect  quite  well.  To  continue,  then, 
— but,  first  of  all,  does  Cousin  Muriel  care  to  hear  it?  " 

"Cousin  Muriel  remarked  that  she  did.  She  gave 
her  assent  not  over-warmly,  and  with  averted  gaze. 

"  I  ought  to  have  told  you,  poor  Miiller  did  not  at  all 
like  old  Caspar's  looks.  He  thought  it  might  be  a  ruse — 
some  spy  come  to  murder  me.  You  see,  I  had  n't  my 
little  body-guard  by  me."  The  genial  smile  accompany- 
ing these  words  stopped  short  midway.  A  look  of  very 
deep  anxiety  took  its  place,  passing  like  a  shadow  across 
the  mobile  countenance.  The  mobile  fingers  commenced 
to  fumble  once  more  in  the  Imperial  pockets. 

"  Go  on." 

"  Paul  !  " 

"  The  boy  is  right.     The  incidents  would  hardly  pay 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  549 

for  dawdling-.  Well,  I  bade  the  old  fellow  good-bye  and 
started  off  at  once  for  La  Grange.  Mesnil  had  retired 
for  the  night,  though  it  was  scarcely  ten.  I  roused  him. 
He,  with  me,  saw  the  extreme  importance  of  the  old  fel- 
low's news.  I  sent  out  orders  in  all  directions;  and  by 
midnight  my  main  body  was  well  on  its  way  to  check- 
mate Rumperheim  at  Parfondrupt.  I,  of  course,  stayed 
behind,  to — to — ah,  to  keep  up  a  connexion  with  Mar- 
shal Clisserole,  who  was  tackling  the  Germans  near 
Francheville.  In  that  way  I  got  a  look  in  at  both  en- 
gagements. " 

But  when  Paul  had  departed,  Napoleon  relapsed  into 
melancholy.  His  restless  hand  strayed  back  to  that 
soul-disturbing  pocket. 

"  I  have  quite  made  up  my  mind,"  said  Muriel  slowly, 
between  many  breaks,  her  eyes  bent  upon  the  glowing 
embers,  "I  sha'n't  wear  the  sables.  The  weight, 
added  to  the  heat  and  excitement,  would  be  too  much 
for  me.  I  never  could  get  through  the  service." 

No  answer. 

"  I  was  thinking  the  matter  out  yesterday,"  she  went 
on  with  raised  voice,  though  her  eyes  could  not  rest 
upon  his  face.  "Madame  Reclame  declares  she  can 
make  me  up  a  robe  to  look  exactly  like  sable,  and  only 
half  the  weight.  Certainly  it  won't  come  much  cheaper; 
but  we  sha'n't  mind  that,"  and  she  laughed.  "  You  do 
not  seem  to  be  very  interested." 

"  Why  should  I  be?  It  is  not  a  matter  that  concerns 
me." 

"What  ails  you?"  she  asked  fiercely;  next  minute 
she  regained  her  refuge  among  the  coals. 

His  face  deepened  into  fretful  discontent.  "Oh, 
Muriel,"  he  pleaded,  "don't  be  angry  with  me:  you 
cannot  guess  how  worried  I  am." 

"What  have  you  there  in  your  pocket?  "  coldly. 

"Nothing,  nothing."  He  smeared  his  hand  across 
his  eyes  to  emerge  smiling  faintly. 

"Your  sable  cloak — ah,  yes.  I  think  you  do  quite 
right  to  accept  Madame's  offer.  Sable  is  terribly  heavy, 
as  I  learnt  to  my  cost  at  the  coronation.  But  mind,  no 
tricks.  If  you  find  that  Reclame's  substitute  is  a  poor 


550  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

one,  you  must  have  sable,  though  we  only  get  a  day 
to  make  the  change.  I  want  my  darling  to  look  an 
empress. " 

"  Have  you  fixed  the  date  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Carache  was  speaking  to  me  about  it  only  to-day." 
He  refrained  from  adding  the  Premier's  actual  words. 
They  had  been  in  answer  to  a  very  determined  onslaught 
on  his  own  part.  Here  they  are:  "I  shall  be  glad  when 
the  autumn  comes  again,  and  your  little  one  with  it. 
The  Princess  and  you  won't  think  any  further  about  such 
trivialities  as  these.  Believe  me,  sire,  in  kings  the  heart 
is  nearest  the  left  hand." 

"And  what  did  he  say?  "  she  hesitated. 

"  Oh,  he  agreed  that  the  first  week  in  February  would 
be  well  enough." 

Was  it  the  dying  fire  that  turned  her  face  to  scarlet? 
"It  must  not  be  later,"  she  said,  <(for  the  sake  of — " 

"I  understand,"  he  responded  with  deep  reverence. 
Then  he  recommenced  fumbling. 

"You  have  something  in  that  pocket.  Walter,  what 
is  it  that  keeps  worrying  you?  " 

"Nothing,  nothing." 

"  It  is  a  poor  thing  if  I  am  only  to  share  your  magnifi- 
cence and  not  your  burdens." 

"I  had  intended  not  to  let  you  know,"  faltered  our 
hero. 

"  I  was  too  sharp  for  you,"  she  cried,  making  this 
concession  to  his  vanity.  "  Let  me  know  all,  I  beg 
of  you." 

He  drew  forth  a  letter. 

"See!  "  he  cried,  in  a  squall  of  passion  which  served 
alone  to  accentuate  his  feebleness;  "  see  what  they  have 
had  the  insolence  to  send  me!  " 

Muriel  took  the  missive  from  his  trembling  grasp.  It 
was  beautifully  written  in  running  Italian  hand.  Nor 
could  its  contents  be  said  to  display  any  the  more  those 
qualities  of  offensive  directness  which  characterize  its 
kind. 

"Illustrious  Emperor,"  it  began,  "I,  one  of  the 
humblest  of  your  subjects,  beholding  the  misery  of  my 
fellows,  feel  compelled  to  relieve  you  of  functions  to 


THE   FOURTH    NAPOLEON  551 

which  you  are  not  equal.  Believe  me,  sire  (observe  I 
give  you  all  your  titles  to  the  last),  I  do  not  blame  you 
for  your  incompetence.  Man  is  not  fitted  for  authority: 
failing  an  angel  to  rule  over  us,  we  must  have  chaos. 
You,  your  brother  emperors,  kings,  presidents,  aye,  even 
humble  gendarmes,  all,  in  your  several  stations,  are  alike 
incapable.  You  personally  are  a  wise  man.  You  have 
had  your  boyhood  among  those  that  are  governed  and 
oppressed.  Without  doubt  you  are  conscious  of  your 
own  unworthiness.  Meaux  claims  half  your  days;  wil- 
lingly would  you  surrender  it  all.  Willingly  would  I 
permit.  I  have  no  desire  to  wrap  you  from  the  arms  of 
that  fair  creature,  your  mistress,  whom  all  France  knows. 
Gladly  would  you  lay  down  your  sceptre,  did  you  con- 
sult your  own  heart.  Alas,  tradition,  foolish  conven- 
tionality, alike  bind  you.  You  can  surrender  it  to  the 
dagger  alone.  The  pity  of  it.  I,  who  have  no  spite 
against  you,  must  be  your  executioner.  Like  the  hang- 
man in  your  adoptive  country,  I  first  offer  you  my  hand. 
Forgive  me,  dear  friend.  And  the  charming  Princess 
Elizabeth  of  Pierrefonds,  I  ask  her  forgiveness  also.  Let 
me  repeat,  I  am  only  your  executioner.  Your  judge  is 
elsewhere.  You  must  seek  him  from  amid  the  teeming 
crowds  of  those  that  are  governed  and  oppressed. 

"(Signed)         NADEZ." 

"I  wish  I  had  him  here,"  she  muttered  between  her 
teeth.  "  How  did  you  get  this?  "  she  went  on  to  ask  of 
her  lover  with  peremptory  abruptness. 

"I  found  it  laid  upon  my  library  table.  That  is  the 
terrible  part  about  the  whole  business." 

"There  must  be  a  traitor  within  the  Palace." 

"A  traitor!  I  have  not  a  living  soul  about  me  whom 
I  can  trust." 

"  Have  you  shown  this  to  any  one?  " 

"  De  Morin  and  Carache;  no  one  else." 

"What  did  they  say?" 

"Carache  said  nothing.  De  Morin  laughed,  and 
declared  that  it  was  just  like  his  dear  friend  Nadez. " 

"  They  suggested  extra  precautions  ?  " 

"I  am  always  guarded,"  he  muttered,  "save  when  I 
come  here." 


553  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"Then  it  was  imprudent  of  you  to  come." 

"My  heart,  I  could  not  stay  away, "  he  ejaculated, 
glancing  anxiously  at  the  door. 

She  thought  a  while. 

"Why  do  you  not  have  this  impudent  fellow  arrested? 
You  know  where  the  wretch  lives." 

"You  have  touched  precisely  upon  the  part  which 
maddens  me  most.  Listen  to  this;  it  will  show  you 
what  amount  of  power  the  Emperor  has." 

"The  Emperor  has  just  what  amount  of  power  he 
chooses  to  take." 

He  broke  away  into  peevishness. 

"You  talk  like  all  ignorant  people.  Presently  you 
may  see  fit  to  change  your  views.  Have  you  finished 
with  that  letter?  " 

"  Let  me  burn  it?  " 

"For  heaven's  sake,  no,"  he  shouted.  "I  have  to 
send  it  to  the  Prefect  in  the  morning."  He  thrust  it 
back  into  his  pocket,  keeping  his  fingers  on  it,  perhaps 
to  help  his  story. 

"That  evening  at  Compiegne," — there  was  no  need 
to  specify  it  further, — "  De  Morin,  acting  upon  my  orders, 
telegraphed  Carache  to  have  all  the  conspirators  ar- 
rested. It  was  to  be  a  species  of  coup  d'etat.  Nadez, 
Loog,  that  cur  Changarnier,  Nadez's  disciples,  my  brute 
of  a  cousin,  were  to  be  under  lock  and  key  by  midnight. 
Consider  what  a  splendid  idea  it  was  of  mine.  These 
wretches  would  have  had  time  neither  to  communicate 
with  one  another  nor  to  destroy  compromising  docu- 
ments. Precious,  would  you  believe  it,  Carache  and  his 
myrmidons  refused  point  blank  to  obey  my  instructions! 
They  advanced  any  number  of  specious  reasons;  but  De 
Morin  hit  the  mark  when  he  said  that  Carache  desired 
to  incriminate  as  many  of  his  opponents  as  possible. 
Directly  I  got  back  to  town,  I  had  an  interview  with  this 
turbulent  minister.  I  gave  him  a  good  slice  of  my  mind, 
I  can  tell  you.  He  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Either 
the  matter  must  be  managed  his  own  way,  he  said  impu- 
dently, or  I  must  get  other  advisers.  What  answer  could 
I  give  to  that?  How  can  I  get  other  advisers  while  this 
fox  keeps  his  majority?  Mesnil — I  and  Mesnil  that  is — 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  553 

wage  a  successful  war  for  him  to  reap  all  the  glory.  The 
thing  is  too  monstrous.  The  way  people  vote  for  him 
and  applaud  him,  one  would  fancy  that  he,  not  I,  was  the 
victor  of  Parfondrupt.  These  French  are  miserable  in- 
grates.  Muriel,  I  would  to  God  I  could  rid  me  of  this 
accursed  empire, — say  for  a  couple  of  hundred  thousand. 
You  and  I  would  have  a  little  cottage  at  Virginia  Water: 
we  would  forget  thankless  man.  How  happy  we  should 
be." 

She  waited  till  he  had  quite  finished  this  muddled 
tirade;  then  she  put  him  back  on  his  right  road. 

"  So  you  had  to  give  in.     What  happened  next  ?" 

"  This  atrocious  letter,  yesterday.  I  sent  at  once 
for  Carache,  to  inform  him  that  I  would  brook  no  more 
delay.  He  is  conceited  enough,  heaven  knows;  but  his 
vanity  does  not  hinder  him  from  being  the  most  incom- 
petent jackass  in  Europe.  Here  is  what  he  replied.' 

"Go  on." 

"He  agreed  quite  coolly  that  the  time  had  come  for 
action.  He  had  already  sent,  the  preceding  evening,  to 
arrest  Nadez.  Unfortunately — and  he  had  the  imperti- 
nence to  smile — the  bird  had  flown.  Muriel,  the  bird 
has  flown!  The  whole  lot  of  them  have  disappeared, 
except  Felix  and  Changarnier.  Naturally,  we  dare  not 
take  them  without  the  others." 

"  This  is  very  serious,"  she  murmured. 

"You  are  right,  it  ts  very  serious.  Carache  pro- 
fesses to  make  light  of  it.  He  says  that  Nadez  was 
seen  entering  his  house  only  four  hours  before  the  police 
arrived  there.  But  that's  two  days  ago.  The  vampire 
may  well  be  out  of  Europe  by  now." 

"  You  won't  mind  if  he  is. " 

"  Maybe  not.  Still,  it  is  a  humiliating  thing  that  he 
should  have  been  suffered  to  scatter  these  letters  broad- 
cast with  impunity.  And  there  is  no  certainty  that  he 
won't  reappear.  He  may  be  hiding  somewhere  in  Paris 
at  this  moment.  If  he  is,  my  life  is  not  worth  half  an 
hour's  purchase." 

"  I  wish  I  could  meet  him,"  she  muttered  once  more 
between  her  clenched  teeth.  "Are  you  armed?"  she 
asked  presently. 


554  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"No,"  he  groaned  with  pathetic  candour.  "  Carache 
advised  it.  But  I  am  sure  I  should  shoot  some  entirely 
inoffensive  person — any  one  who  approached  me  rather 
too  quickly,  you  know." 

"You  do  well  to  treat  the  matter  as  a  joke,"  she 
soothed  him.  "  Ridicule  is  the  best  weapon  against 
such  threats.  Nevertheless,  you  ought  to  have  a  re- 
volver. He  spoke  about  a  dagger,  did  n't  he?  Let  me 
see,  is  not  that  how  they  killed  the  poor  President?  " 

He  shuddered.  "  Muriel,  as  you  love  me,  do  not 
speak  about  it." 

"  One  ought  to  take  reasonable  precautions.  You 
should  wear  a  leathern  breastplate:  it  stops — "  She 
stopped  as  well,  and  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

His  eyes  were  fixed  in  terror  upon  the  door  be- 
hind her. 

"  Muriel,"  he  whispered,    "  the  handle  is  moving." 
For  a  moment  she  too  sat  paralyzed,  nor  dared  turn 
her   head.     It  was  the    fear  of   a  single  instant.     The 
next,  she  rose  brusquely,  swept  forward  and  flung  the 
door  wide  open. 

"Nothing,"  she  cried.  "The  wind  must  have 
moved  it." 

"Comeback,"  he  implored,   "and  lock  it." 

"  Nonsense.  Your  nerves  are  unstrung.  The  door 
does  not  lock:  the  key  turns  and  nothing  happens,"  and 
she  shut  it  to. 

She  resumed  her  seat.  Beads  of  perspiration  studded 
his  brow.  Really  she  could  not  pity  him. 


Chapter  XII 


"  What  is  the  time?  "  he  inquired  faintly. 

"  Ten  past  nine.     You  can  see  the  clock." 

But  he  had  eyes  for  nothing  save  the  handle  of  the 
door,  which  was  brass  and  oval,  and  fluted  with  con- 
centric channels  not  altogether  agreeable  to  the  palm. 
To-night  it  reflected  a  ray  of  the  slowly  dying  fire,  and 
by  this  alone  one  might  detect  its  slightest  movement. 

"  Ten  past  nine.  I  think — I  think — yes,  I  will  start 
at  once,  and  walk." 

"  The  most  foolish  thing  you  could  do.  If  they  are 
really  tracking  you,  they  will  kill  you  in  the  lanes  with 
the  greatest  ease.  You  must  wait  here  in  peace  for 
your  brougham.  And  another  time  do  n't  venture  so 
far  without  an  escort — unless  your  nerves  get  stronger." 

She  broke  off  into  a  recital  of  events,  which  she 
fancied  might  interest  him  and  divert  his  mind, — Paul's 
sayings,  for  this  silent  worshipper  had  won  some  tiny 
corner  of  the  Emperor's  heart;  Eugenie's  obstinate  taci- 
turnity; her  own  rambles  down  by  the  river-side,  where 
they  had  had  their  first  meeting.  Her  lover  pretended 
to  listen,  and  heard  never  a  word.  He  only  watched  the 
door,  and  wished  to  God  he  knew  the  number  of  his  days 
and  their  ending,  that  he  might  see  how  long  he  had  to 
live,  and  thus  pass  through  the  present  juncture  with  the 
calmness  befitting  his  great  position. 

"  Muriel,"  he  whispered  once  more  and  with  increased 
terror,  "the  handle  is  moving.  I  can  see  it — now  — 
again — my  God,  Muriel,  this  is  your  doing!  You  har — 
you  have  decoyed  me  to  murder  me!  "  and  he  recoiled 
with  starting  eyes  and  wide-parted  lips  from  some  ad- 
vancing horror. 

She  turned,  faintly  hoping  to  see  the  door  blown  open  by 

SSS 


556  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

the  wind.  But  it  was  Nadez  this  time.  She  recognized  him 
at  a  glance.  His  yellow  visage,  the  colour  of  curry;  his 
bloodshot  eyes  gleaming  with  fierce  triumph;  his  grace- 
ful figure  deserving  of  a  better  face, — all  helped  her  on 
to  his  identity:  sufficient  of  themselves  to  disclose  it, 
had  she  not  had  his  name  already  in  her  mind,  nor  seen 
his  presence  in  her  lover's  eyes.  A  squat  revolver  hung 
from  his  right  hand ;  the  girl  caught  the  blue  glint  of 
the  barrel  as  it  nestled  against  the  sober  black  of  the 
Eurasian's  trousers.  (The  assassin  had  actually  had  the 
insolence  to  come  in  dress-clothes.  A  single  diamond, 
the  size  of  a  small  cabbage,  glittered  from  his  spotless 
bosom.)  Her  fertile  brain  instantly  devised  some  pretext 
for  a  parley.  Let  her  only  get  that  little  shining  instru- 
ment from  him,  he  should  taste  the  forgiveness  of  the 
"charming  Princess  Elizabeth  of  Pierrefonds. " 

She  cast  a  single  glance  at  her  lover  and  seducer. 
There  was  no  help  to  be  looked  for  from  that  quarter. 
Neither  his  eyelids  nor  his  mouth  had  moved  an  inch. 
She  never  knew  before  that  human  fear  could  go  so  far. 

She  advanced  boldly  to  meet  the  intruder. 

"Who  are  you?     What  do  you  want?  " 

His  hot  eyes  rested  for  an  instant  on  this  fragile  form. 
They  seemed  to  devour  her  face  and  figure.  She  pre- 
ferred the  former  look  of  murder  to  this  whiff  of  desire. 

"Not  you,  Princess;"  and  his  voice  came  singularly 
sweet  and  fresh :  "at  least  not  just  at  present. " 

His  sensuous  chin  and  puffy  cheeks  were  Asiatic.  So, 
too,  his  swart  mustaches,  that  resembled  tufts  of  horse- 
hair. The  forehead  alone,  and  the  nose  above  the  bridge, 
showed  that  he  counted  Europeans  among  his  forbears. 
Below  the  bridge  the  latter  feature  became  flat  babu. 

"You  have  come  to  murder  the  Emperor,"  Muriel 
continued.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  she  was  calm  enough 
to  take  in  all  these  details.  "  Then  let  me  tell  you  his 
Majesty  is  not  here." 

"  Of  course  not.  The  gentleman  behind  is  your  High- 
ness' papa.  Dear  lady,  these  little  ruses  were  buried  with 
Mary  of  Scotland.  We  do  not  use  them  nowadays. "  He 
was  up  to  her  by  now.  He  seized  her  wrist,  still  devour- 
ing her  with  his  greedy  eyes.  "  Now,  Princess,"  said  he. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  557 

lifting  the  muzzle  of  his  revolver  to  the  lace  that  edged 
her  bosom  and  lowering  it  instantly,  "the  Emperor  and 
I  must  have  a  few  words  together.  You  will  have  to 
leave  us.  Come,  do  not  make  force  necessary.  I  should 
feel  it  bitterly.  You  are  a  very  charming  young  lady.  I 
admire  my  sovereign's  taste.  Perhaps—  perhaps — after  he 
and  I  have  finished  our  business  you  may  feel  inclined  to 
permit  me  to  partake  of  that  felicity  which  he  was  to  have 
enjoyed.  I  bear  him  no  ill-will.  He  takes  what  he  can 
get;  so  do  I.  Go  to  your  bedroom,  dearest,  and  await 
my  coming."  He  leered  down  at  her,  clothing  her  with 
indignant  shame. 

"Napoleon,"  she  cried,  "can  you  sit  by  and  let  this 
man  insult  me?  Rouse  yourself,  you  coward.  We  two 
are  strong  enough." 

"You  wicked  woman,"  the  Emperor  murmured  in 
dazed  accents;  "you  have  decoyed  me." 

Nadez  burst  out  laughing. 

"Do  you  hear  him,  Princess?  He's  a  fine  lover, 
is  n't  he?  I  sha'n't  suffer  by  comparison  with  him.  At 
least,  you  will  find  that  you  have  got  a  man  in  exchange. 
I  say,  Princess," — and  the  monster  actually  bent  down 
to  whisper  in  her  ear — "  how  did  a  creature  like  that 
manage  it?  You  are  a  real  Zenobia. ' 

"  Napoleon,"  she  cried,  once  more  trying  to  free  her- 
self, "rouse  yourself! — you  black-hearted  coward." 

"Oh,  Muriel,  it  is  useless,"  he  groaned. 

"Altogether  useless.  If  his  Majesty  stirs  a  finger,  I 
shall  have  to  kill  you.  And  then  you  will  be  about  as 
much  good  to  me  as  was  the  Princess  de  Lamballe  to  her 
admirers. " 

She  did  not  understand  his  monstrous  allusion.  The 
Emperor  did;  and,  to  do  him  justice,  it  whipt  his  heart 
almost  as  much  as  did  his  own  personal  peril. 

That  he  had  this  man  safe  grasped  within  his  arms! 
—  he  would  tear  him  limb  from  limb.  And  he  knew 
that  a  sudden  spring  might  possibly  save  him.  His  as- 
sailant and  he  at  close  quarters;  the  wretched  pistol, 
which  he  dare  not  look  at,  tumbled  on  the  floor;  and  the 
result  of  their  encounter  might  be  rather  different  from 
what  the  hideous  half-caste  seemed  to  expect.  But  it 


558  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

meant  Muriel's  life.  Muriel  —  Delilah  no  longer — whom 
he  loved  with  all  the  additional  heat  that  came  to  him 
from  the  sight  of  Nadez's  desire.  For  her  sake  he  dare 
not  move;  but  must  continue  in  that  paralysis  of  terror 
which  was  no  longer  altogether  genuine.  Perhaps  with 
Muriel  gone,  he  might  succeed  in  buying  Nadez  off.  So 
he  bartered  a  good  chance  for  a  bad  one;  content  mean- 
while to  suffer  his  insults  and  her  contempt.  And  in 
judging  him,  this  should  never  be  forgotten. 

"Muriel,"  said  he,  hoarsely,  "  do  as  this  man  tells 
you.  Leave  us  together. " 

"You   hear  what    he   says,"    laughed    the  Eurasian. 

"You  won't  find  it  difficult  to  transfer  your  affections 
from  a  man  like  that,  will  you?  I  sha'n't  be  able  to  give 
you  a  throne.  A  throne? — What  am  I  talking  about? 
He  will  never  give  you  one  —  I  mean,  he  would  not  have 
done  so,  even  had  I  never  appeared  to  hinder  him.  My 
dear  Princess,  you  have  given  him  too  much  already, 
for  there  ever  to  have  been  a  fair  exchange." 

"You  cur,"  she  blazed  out,  turning  upon  her  lover, 
"can  you  sit  there  and  hear  him  speak  to  me  like  that? 
Spring!  —  never  mind  me." 

He  shook  his  head.  "Useless  .  .  .  useless.  Leave 
us,  my  dar —  Muriel." 

She  turned  away  with  a  gesture  of  bitter  contempt. 
"  No  one  can  save  a  creature  like  that.  I  will  obey  you. " 
This  last  to  Nadez.  She  moved  towards  the  door. 

"  That  is  a  wise  young  lady.  Recollect,  after  busi- 
ness comes  pleasure.  Another  thing,  Princess;  men 
surround  the  house.  It  is  useless  for  any  one  to  try 
and  leave  it." 

It  was  a  piece  of  Nadesian  bluff.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  he  was  "  placing  "  this  coup  single-handed.  The 
sole  other  male  within  five  miles  was  little  Paul;  and 
that 's  forgetting  the  butler,  who  snored  in  front  of  the 
kitchen  fire. 

He  bowed  her  out  with  elaborate  courtesy,  keeping 
one  eye  all  the  while  on  Napoleon.  He  closed  the  door 
quickly  after  her,  turned  the  key  which  did  n't  lock, 
and  placed  it  in  his  pocket.  He  took  Muriel's  chair. 
Laying  his  revolver  well  within  reach  upon  the  table,  he 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  559 

proceeded  to  survey  this  sentenced  son  of  Woden  from 
top  to  toe. 

Napoleon  presented  a  truly  piteous  spectacle.  His 
passion  had  departed  with  his  mistress:  he  was  once 
more  paralysed  with  fear.  He  strove  to  speak;  his 
parched  mouth  could  not  frame  a  single  word.  Nadez, 
with  his  nose,  that  ended  in  pure  babu,  sniffed  up  all 
these  little  marks  of  cowardice.  Henceforward  he  did 
not  pay  so  much  attention  to  his  weapon. 

"Of  course  you  have  your  price?"  Majesty  at  last 
managed  to  falter  out. 

"  Sire,  who  has  not?  " 

The  victim  commenced  to  breathe  again. 

"  Name  it." 

"  Do  you  tell  me  what  you  are  prepared  to  give?  " 

"  Money, "  cried  Bonaparte;  "more  money  than  you 
have  ever  had  in  your  life." 

"Three  million  francs? " 

"Yes,  you  shall  have  them.  Three  million  francs  — 
let  me  write  you  an  order." 

"  Stay  where  you  are.  Three  million  francs  —  good; 
and  you  will  throw  in  the  wench  besides?  " 

He  meant  H.H.  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of  Pierre- 
fonds. 

"  You  may  have   her." 

"Your  Majesty  has  done  with  her,  hey?  " 

"I  have  done  with  her,"  repeated  our  hero,  echoing 
the  other's  ugly  laugh. 

"You  are  a  pretty  lover.  Make  your  mind  easy. 
You  can  keep  your  money  and  your  mistress  for  so  long 
as  you  will  have  need  of  them.  No,  sire,  I  won't  tor- 
ment you  further.  You  must  die.  Personally,  I  bear 
you  no  ill-will;  I  am  merely  your  executioner,"  and  he 
leered  across  at  his  prey,  over  whom  the  pallor  of  death 
was  already  stealing. 

"  You  must  die ;  I  regret  to  say,  very  speedily.  I  have 
to  catch  your  train.  I  shall  give  you  seven  minutes 
wherein  to  prepare  for  death.  If  you  desire  to  pray, 
pray.  Do  n't  mind  me." 

Nadez  laid  his  watch  beside  the  pistol. 

"  I  could  wish,"  he  went  on,    "that  it  were  possible 


560  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

for  me  to  turn  away.  Nevertheless,  endeavour  to  forget 
my  presence.  I  do  not  believe  in  God  myself;  still,  I 
shall  not  mock.  Kneel,  if  you  so  wish.  You  have  good 
reason  to  believe  in  Him  and  be  grateful  to  Him.  And  I 
daresay  you  prefer  not  to  go  direct  from  her  Highness's 
society.  Exactly  seventeen  to  ten:  the  time  has 
begun." 

"You  are  doing  a  very  cowardly  thing." 

"  I  am  obeying  orders. " 

"Who  orders  you  to  mur —  slay  a  defenceless 
man? " 

"Who  asked  you,"  the  Eurasian  retorted,  "to  im- 
pose yourself  as  Emperor  over  millions  of  your  superiors, 
—  you,  whom  the  death-summons  finds  carousing  with  a 
harlot?  Personally,  I  do  not  blame  you  for  having  a 
mistress;  and  I  admire  your  taste  in  the  present  instance. 
I  mean  to  borrow  her  from  your  estate.  But  my  private 
opinion  is  neither  here  nor  there.  Europe  won't  tie 
edified  to  learn  where  and  how  you  died:  Europe  expects 
something  better  from  her  rulers.  I  shall  have  to  tell 
her  that  I  found  you  chambering." 

"You  shall  have  a  title,"  urged  Napoleon. 

"  Pah,  what  do  I  care  for  that?  Sincere  thanks,  my 
noble  sovereign,  I  prefer  to  remain  plain  Monsieur  Nadez. 
The  Count  of  Meaux,  forsooth!  People  would  mock  at 
me  as  much  as  they  do  at  your  Princess  of  Pierrefonds. " 

"  Is  there  nothing  that  can  tempt  you?"  In  a  fer- 
vour for  his  life,  he  got  himself  to  speak  the  wretch's 
name.  "  Look  here,  Nadez,  you  shall  have  rooms  in  the 
Elyse'e  and  a  share  of  my  throne." 

"  And  if  I  bring  the  Princess  to  live  with  me,  you 
won't  tamper  with  her?  " 

"No.  You  shall  be  virtual  ruler  of  France.  Pause 
Na — Monsieur  Nadez.  Take  the  chance  I  offer  you; 
it  is  worthy  your  acceptance.  And  it  will  save  you  from 
a  cold-blooded  mur —  assassination." 

"  Again  I  must  beg  you  not  to  stir  from  your  chair. 
You  have  four  and  a  half  minutes  yet  to  run." 

"  Will  you  not  accept  my  offer?  " 

"Why  should  I  ?  Who  am  I  that  I  should  govern?  I 
am  also  an  incompetent  and  licentious  man.  I,  too,  like 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  561 

my  ease  and  pretty  women,  and,  with  yourself,  am 
something  of  a  coward  when  I  am  unarmed.  Take  my 
advice  and  pray  a  little." 

"  I  will  go  back  to  Pimlico. " 

"  It  is  too  late." 

For  a  while  there  was  silence.  Nadez,  notwithstand- 
ing his  friendly  counsel,  was  the  first  to  break  it. 

"  Carache  is  a  cunning  fox,"  said  he. 

"Too  cunning,"  came  the  sullen  answer. 

"He  imagined  that  he  held  me  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand.  Thanks  to  your  own  ardent  temperament,  I  have 
trapped  you  without  fuss  or  bother.  Yet  had  you  never 
strayed  from  your  escort,  we  should  have  killed  you,  all 
the  same.  Three  fourths  of  France  are  on  my  side.  In 
Paris  alone  I  can  count  two  million  desperate  men  as  my 
devoted  slaves." 

"You  are  not  a  Frenchman,"  Napoleon  exclaimed 
with  some  show  of  spirit;  "that  is  my  answer  to  your 
boastings. " 

"No  more  are  you." 

"  You  are  not  a  Frenchman.  I  do  not  believe  you 
could  find  a  single  genuine  Frenchman  to  side  with  you 
against  the  victor  of  Parf ondrupt. " 

' '  You  mean  the  hero  of  La  Grange-en-Haye, ' '  laughed 
Nadez.  "I  wish  the  Prussians  could  see  you  now." 

"You  are  not  a  Frenchman,"  Napoleon  repeated. 
"  Frenchmen  are  not  cowards.  Throw  away  your  pistol; 
then  we  will  see  who  is  the  better  man.  You  dare  not, 
you  half-bred  mongrel."  The  yellow  face  took  a  deeper 
tinge;  the  assassin's  fingers  strayed  towards  their  ally. 

"  Pah,  why  should  I  fight  with  you?  Prepare  yourself, 
you  sinner,  to  meet  the  angels.  Don't  die  snarling. 
You  have  three  minutes  left  you.  I  forgive  you  your 
abuse." 

The  minutes  ebbed  away  to  death.  And  all  he  could 
think  about  was  his  bedroom  in  Pimlico.  How  he  re- 
gretted those  unexciting  nights  spent  nestling  under  the 
warmth  of  his  insignificance. 

For  the  third  time  that  evening  he  saw  the  brass 
handle  slowly  turn.  His  mind,  invested  to  some  extent 
with  the  activity  denied  his  body,  whispered  a  coming 


562  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

rescue,  and  whispered  also  that  he  must  play  his  part. 
Nadez  sat  watching  him  like  a  cat.  Let  this  swarthy 
murderer  detect  the  faintest  dawn  of  hope,  and  all  was 
lost.  So  his  vacant  eyes  continued  to  wander  about 
and  beyond  the  Eurasian's  chair:  in  reality,  they  never 
left  the  door. 

"  It  swung  gently  forward.  Paul,  in  night-shirt  and 
bare  feet,  stole  in  on  tip-toe.  Eugenie  followed ;  while 
Muriel  brought  up  the  rear.  Napoleon  could  not  stifle 
a  sharp  burst  of  laughter. 

"  My  poor  friend,"  purred  Nadez,  "you  are  becom- 
ing hysterical.  Only  one  minute  more.  Try  and  calm 
yourself:  you  have  my  deepest  sympathy. "  He  stretched 
out  his  hand  to  take  the  pistol.  Half-way,  he  withdrew  it, 
empty;  and  set  himself  instead  to  roll  a  cigarette. 

"  Ugh,"  he  exclaimed  affably,  "you  cannot  conceive 
how  I  loath  the  smell  of  blood.  I  shall  perform  the 
operation  with  the  greatest  care.  Doubtless  you  will 
prefer  the  head  —  about  here,  perhaps?  "  and  the  monster 
tapped  his  own  right  temple. 

"You  are  doing  a  very  cowardly  thing." 

They  crept  nearer,  keeping  in  Indian  file,  with  Paul 
leading.  No  sound  escaped  them.  Nadez  heard  nothing: 
Napoleon  seemed  to  hear  the  beating  of  their  hearts. 
The  distance  gradually  diminished. 

The  boy's  face  was  ashen.  His  eyes  shone  with  un- 
wonted brilliance.  And  all  the  while  the  sand  was  fil- 
tering through  for  both  of  them.  The  Eurasian's  first. 
He  might  have  felt  the  child's  shadow.  The  next  instant, 
with  a  cry  of  uncontrollable  excitement,  the  latter  sprung 
forward,  and  wound  his  arms  round  the  half-caste's  neck. 
Simultaneously  Eugenie  swept  his  arms  and  pinned  them 
to  his  sides.  Muriel  snatched  up  the  pistol.  Nadez 
made  superhuman  efforts  to  be  free.  He  strove  to  rise 
and  shake  his  assailants  from  him.  They  were  swaying 
like  reeds  before  the  wind. 

"I  cannot  hold  him  much  longer,"  shrieked  Eugenie; 
"quick,  quick;  kill  the  devil!" 

Muriel  strove  to  thrust  the  weapon  into  her  lover's 
hand.  He  could  not  take  it. 

"  Do  you  hear?     Kill  the  dog,  I  tell  you." 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  563 

"Oh,  Muriel,  I  cannot." 

Nadez  had  risen  to  his  feet.  Another  minute  and  he 
would  be  free. 

"For  God's  sake,  Mademoiselle,"  shrieked  the  ser- 
vant, "kill  him!  we  cannot  hold  him."  With  a  last 
convulsive  effort  the  two  forced  him  back  into  his  chair 

Without  a  second  thought  the  girl  sprang  forward  and 
laid  the  muzzle  against  his  temple.  He  ceased  strug- 
gling: he  was  rigid  with  terror.  And  as  for  her;  the 
taste  of  blood  was  already  in  her  mouth.  She  remem- 
bered alone  his  insults,  and  how  she  hated  him. 

"  These  are  my  favours,  you  cur,"  and  she  pulled  the 
trigger. 

His  death-agony  freed  him.  He  rose  to  his  full 
height,  and  looked  round  him  with  a  dazed  expression. 
Then  he  fell  forward  in  a  sprawling  heap  upon  the  table. 
The  blood  splashed  the  lace  about  her  bosom.  Eugenie 
gave  a  cry  of  mitigated  concern,  which  was  not  for  the 
defunct:  his  Majesty  had  fainted. 


Chapter  XIII 


New  Year's  Eve,  and  all  Paris,  capable  of  freezing 
frozen,  from  the  surface  of  the  Seine  to  the  tips  of  Monsieur 
Prehlen's  fingers,  as  that  cheerful  individual  sat  smiling 
in  his  room.  The  Ambassador  had  just  breakfasted. 
The  table,  bearing  dregs  of  coffee  and  broken  bread, 
lay  pushed  to  one  side.  His  legs  were  straightened  as 
far  as  they  would  go,  his  stomach  was  to  heaven,  while 
he  toyed  with  his  beard. 

He  could  afford  such  obvious  complaisance.  The 
night  preceding  had  gotten  itself  the  victory  for  all  his 
labours.  The  dying  year  would  crown  the  last  pinnacle 
of  a  not  unsuccessful  life.  He  felt  the  glow  of  Nunc 
Dimittis  in  every  fibre  of  his  body.  How  he  regretted 
Carache's  little  girl.  What  sugar-plums  he  would  have 
sent  her,  this  happy  festive  season.  The  dear  fellow's 
expansive  mood  cried  aloud  for  a  confidant, —  some  one 
to  listen  how  he  and  the  Prime  Minister  had  piloted  their 
skiff  home  through  many  a  storm  and  not  a  few  threaten- 
ingsof  shipwreck.  But  Mademoiselle  Leducwas  starring 
in  the  Provinces,  and  his  attaches  were  busy  at  their  desks, 
save  his  favourite,  who  had  gone  to  Russia  to  see  a  mother 
and  pass  November  examinations,  and  who  might  be 
back  any  time  in  the  new  year.  The  young  gentleman 
in  question  chose,  however,  the  last  morning  of  the  old. 
Passengers  from  St.  Petersburg,  provided  their  tastes  lie 
that  way,  can  land  in  Paris  about  eight.  Monsieur's  clock 
showed  ten.  His  valet,  entering  to  clear,  mentioned 
incidentally  that  Count  Fersen  had  just  that  minute 
returned. 

Excellency  gave  a  little  scream  of  delight.  He 
ordered  the  dear  boy  to  be  brought  in  at  once,  his  break- 
fast with  him.  Nicholas  came,  looking  pale  and  glum. 

564 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  565 

The  kind  chief  thrust  him  into  the  cosiest  chair,  and 
chafed  his  cold  hands,  and  plied  him  with  endless  ques- 
tions about  Dmitroff  and  the  Baroness  and  the  Tsaritza 
and  St.  Petersburg  and  his  examinations.  Most  of  these, 
by  the  way,  Prehlen  had  to  answer  as  he  put  them;  for 
the  boy  never  thawed,  though  the  other  drew  the  break- 
fast table  under  his  very  nose.  And  when  the  Ambas- 
sador grew  tired  of  this  colloquial  monologue,  he  began 
to  talk  about  the  course  of  his  own  affairs  since  his 
favourite's  departure.  Thus  he  fell  by  easy  stages  into 
the  topic  of  yesterday's  triumph.  Fersen  shook  off  some 
of  his  indifference.  His  pallor  by-and-by  changed  to  a 
glow  that  was  not  one  of  health.  His  eyes  began  to 
burn  with  an  unpleasant  brilliance,  which  the  narrator 
took  for  admiration.  He  only  interrupted  once;  and 
that  not  until  quite  towards  the  end. 

Here  is  Prehlen's  artless  tale. 

"  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  dear  Nicholas,  the  day 
you  left  for  Dmitroff,  our  prospects  were  extremely 
gloomy.  The  night  prior  to  your  departure,  while  we 
guests  were  sleeping  peacefully,  a  terrible  scene  was 
enacting  itself  in  Bonaparte's  apartment.  The  irate 
father  had  only  that  afternoon  appeared  at  Compiegne, 
as  you  recollect;  and  he  did  not  waste  —  but  you  have 
heard  all  since?" 

Nicholas  nodded. 

"  Then  I  need  not  trouble.  At  breakfast,  next 
morning,  I  scented  a  rat;  but  could  n't  get  a  word  out  of 
any  one,  though  I  expended  ten  Napoleons  in  the  attempt 
and  was  the  last  visitor  to  leave  the  Palace.  You  left 
quite  early,  you  remember.  I  followed  you  to  the  Gare 
du  Nord  to  bestow  a  last  embrace  upon  you," — as  a  fact, 
they  had  crossed,  Prehlen  having  been  on  his  way  from 
Compiegne,  —  "and  when  I  arrived  here,  I  found  De 
Morin  waiting  for  me  with  a  full  account.  He  told  me 
that  papa  and  mamma  had  flung  the  young  lady  off,  and 
had  departed  for  India  in  a  huff.  Also,  that  the  girl  was 
then  on  her  way  to  Meaux,  where  she  would  remain  until 
her  marriage.  I  say,  Nicholas,  she  '11  have  to  stay  there 
a  long  time.  He  likewise  informed  me  that  Boney  was 
madly  infatuated,  and  had  created  his  mistress  a  princess 


566  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

as  earnest  of  his  honourable  intentions.  Nicholas,  you 
wince;  you  are  in  pain,  dear  boy. 

"  To  continue.  My  child,  you  know  your  old  god- 
papa;  how  trouble  merely  tightens  his  tough  old  nerves. 
From  that  day  forward,  I  devoted  myself  entirely  to  his 
Majesty's  welfare.  I  never  left  him.  From  morn  till 
dewy  eve  (Sundays  included)  I  pottered  about  his  study. 
I  hung  over  him  while  he  wrote;  I  nestled  at  his  elbow 
while  he  read.  Whenever  he  lay  prostrate  upon  the  sofa 
—  which  was  pretty  often  —  I  bent  down  and  smoothed 
his  weary  brow.  Nicholas,  for  eight  weeks  I  have  been 
father  and  mother  and  grandfather  and  uncle  and  tutor 
and  niece  and  cousin  to  this  poor  young  man;  and  my 
reward  is  here  at  last.  Mind,  dear  boy,  I  never  worried 
him.  For  hours  I  would  sit  talking  about  everything  in 
the  world  except  the  beauteous  Catharine  Petrovna  and 
our  alliance.  And  then,  just  before  the  little  fellow's 
bedtime,  I  would  throw  in  a  single  word  about  their 
depredations  and  her  dreamlike  face.  Remember  my 
methods,  Nicky,  when  I  am  dead.  They  are  the  only 
effective  ones.  Sometimes,  too,  I  would  strew  the  girl's 
portraits  about  the  room, — cabinet  size,  Nicholas!  I 
have  reason  to  believe  that  they  immediately  found  their 
billets  in  the  breast-pocket  of  the  leathern  cuirass,  which 
I  understand  he  never  takes  off.  And  once  I  left  one  of 
our  Foreign  Office  globes  —  you  know  what  I  mean, 
wherein  England  and  her  dependencies  are  divided  be- 
tween ourselves  and  France  —  upon  his  desk.  Next  day, 
I  found  it  in  a  corner,  smashed  to  smithereens;  so  you 
perceive  that  that  seed  was  sown  in  good  ground. 

"And  thus  I  laboured  in  my  vineyard  for  close  upon 
eight  weeks.  While  you  were  idling  hand  in  hand  with 
your  dear  mother  about  Moscow,  I  was  spending  my  life's 
blood  in  the  service  of  my  country.  Nicholas,  from  morn 
to  dewy  eve — let  me  see?  I  have  told  you  that  already. 
To  proceed.  A  fortnight  ago  my  good  friend  and  ally, 
Monsieur  Carache,  warned  me  of  a  distinct  develop- 
ment in  the  situation,  consequent  upon  Nadez's  unsuc- 
cessful attempt.  You  have,  of  course,  heard  all  about 
that  amusing  business,  and  you  doubtless  are  aware  that 
Meaux  was  the  scene  of  the  murder.  Little  Plon-Plon 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  567 

the  Second  is  a  funny  fellow.  He  actually  regards  the 
Eurasian's  foiled  pistol  as  a  punishment  from  heaven  for 
living  in  forni —  Nicholas,  you  are  not  well.  Three 
mornings  after  this  adventure  he  sent  for  his  Prime  Min- 
ister and  gave  us  notice  of  his  immediate  intention 
to  marry  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of  Pierrefonds.  (You 
recognize  the  lady?)  From  that  hour  forward  up  till 
two  o'clock  this  morning  one  or  the  other  of  us  never 
left  him.  Sometimes  Carache  took  night  duty,  some- 
times I  did.  Yesterday  was  his  turn.  He  relieved  me 
just  before  tea-time;  I  said  good-night  to  Majesty,  and 
came  home  to  supper  and  a  quiet  evening. 

"  Nicholas,  the  interest  thickens.  I  must  have  your 
very  best  attention.  I  had  made  a  fairly  satisfactory 
meal,  and  was  toasting  my  feet  at  the  fire,  when  a  mes- 
senger rushed  in,  breathless,  with  a  summons  from  Carache 
to  return  at  once.  I  found  little  Bonaparte  stretched 
upon  his  sofa,  in  tears.  Felix  knelt  beside  him,  trying 
to  soothe  him ;  the  Premier  stood  at  the  table,  measuring 
out  a  draught.  On  the  floor  lay  a  letter  from  the  Prin- 
cess— oh!  such  a  cruel  letter!  I  ventured  to  appropri- 
ate it.  You  shall  see  it,  if  you  are  a  good  boy. 

"  But  you  shall  have  our  very  words.  They  are  his- 
tory. '  Hoity-toity, '  said  I,  looking  round  me.  '  What 's 
the  matter  with  our  gracious  master? ' 

"  '  Ss'h, '  said  fat  Felix,  and  he  wagged  a  finger  behind 
his  back;  'Carache,  I  fancy  our  dear  boy  is  sleeping.' 

The  Premier  trotted  round  with  the  graduated  phial. 
'  There,  Monseigneur,  get  him  to  take  this.  It  's  only 
sal  volatile;  it  will  soothe  him.'  As  he  passed  me  on 
his  way  back  to  the  table,  he  whispered,  'My  lady  has 
done  the  trick  this  time.  She  's  written  him  a  rouser. 
He  's  in  a  mood  to  do  anything  we  want.' 

"The  Imperial  sobs  grew  less  frequent.  Fat  Felix 
commenced  softly  cooing  to  him.  Really,  it  was  all  I 
could  do  to  keep  myself  from  laughing  outright. 

"  '  Did  she  send  him  nasty,  horrid  letters,  and  say  that 
he  had  delayed  another  week  and  was  a  wicked  traitor 
in  consequence?  Then  his  cousin,  who  never  meant  to 
do  him  any  real  harm,  but  only  went  with  Nadez  and 
Loog  to  keep  them  in  hand,  will  comfort  him.  And  when 


568  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

he  is  a  wee  bit  better  he  shall  come  down  to  Auteuil  and 
see  my  little  Swedish  dicky-bird  and  my  allegorical 
picture.'  And  if  you  will  credit  it,  Nicholas,  the  insane 
creature  proceeded  to  give  an  account  of  that  mas- 
terpiece. 

"Meanwhile  Carache  and  I  were  rummaging.  My 
word,  Nicholas,  the  rubbish  we  found!  There  were  por- 
traits of  the  Princess  in  every  conceivable  attitude,  and 
bundles  of  letters  (many  of  which  I  kept),  and  withered 
flowers  and  dirty  wisps  of  bronze-coloured  hair — boy, 
you  are  n't  well — and  innumerable  knick-knacks  which 
my  lady  had  evidently  worked  with  her  own  lily  fingers. 
I  've  been  through  some  of  the  letters;  they  get  colder 
and  colder,  until  they  consummate  in  that  last  vile  tirade 
I  picked  up  from  the  floor.  Then  we  found  scraps  of 
speeches  and  printed  proclamations,  all  dealing  with  that 
blessed  Princess  Elizabeth;  and,  I  say,  Nicholas,  there 
was  one  (not  printed)  giving  his  faithful  lieges  notice  of 
the  birth  of  an  heir.  And  this  note  is  scratched  on  the 
margin  of  the  precious  document:  'If  a  boy:  Louis 
Walter  Napoleon  Paul.'  " 

Nicholas  shuddered. 

"So  Carache  and  I  cleared  the  whole  place,  and  took 
what  we  wanted  and  burnt  the  rest.  Then  I  laid  my 
documents  upon  his  Majesty's  desk,  everything  open. 
Carache  trotted  round  with  a  little  more  sal  volatile,  and 
the  three  of  us  supported  him  into  his  armchair,  seating 
ourselves  round  him  like  guardian  angels. 

"  'Majesty,'  commenced  Carache, — he  really  manages 
the  little  chap  splendidly, — 'we  must  live  in  our  fool's 
paradise  no  longer.  That  cruel  letter  convinces  me  that 
my  suspicions  are  well  founded.  The  Princess  meant 
you  to  be  killed;  and  it  was  only  when  you  so  coura- 
geously turned  the  tables  upon  your  assailant  that  she 
ranged  herself  on  your  side.  Her  nerve  failed  her.  Had 
you  been  less  bold  and  determined,  she  would  have  as- 
sisted him  in  cutting  your  throat.  The  Eurasian  whom 
you  barely  slaughtered  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  villa 
all  through  November;  I  have  the  Prefect's  word  for  it. 
He  affirms  positively  that  this  woman  was  his  mis — ' 

"  '  No,  not  that!  '  cries  Bonaparte.    So  our  friend  skips 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  569 

a  bit.  '  Anyhow,  her  letter  shows  she  bears  you  no  love. 
She  may  kill  you  yet.  Majesty,  I  regret  to  have  to  say 
it,  you  must  discontinue  your  visits  for  a  season.' 

"To  this  the  little  fellow  gave  a  willing  enough  con- 
sent. Nadez's  blood  still  stank  in  his  nostrils,  one  could 
see.  We  decided  to  move  the  Princess  down  to  Cannes; 
Brisson  is  to  take  her  directly  after  Christmas.  She  will 
remain  there  till  baby  is  born — Louis  Walter  Napoleon 
Paul.  That  civilizes  them;  you  maybe  sure  she  won't 
get  up  to  any  more  tricks  after  that.  Catharine  Petrovna 
and  she  are  likely  in  time,  to  become  very  good 
friends. 

"But  to  return  to  Carache.  He  now  took  a  higher 
flight.  'Sire,'  he  purred, — he  really  manages  the  little 
chap  splendidly, — '  it  is  time  your  Majesty  ranged  your- 
self. Forgive  me  for  saying  it,  you  are  no  exception  to 
the  remainder  of  your  exalted  family.  They  all  had  and 
have  a  spice  of  the  dev — ahem,  the  devil  in  them ;  you  have 
it  too.'  Nicholas,  you  should  have  seen  the  little  fellow 
perk  his  head  and  try  and  hide  the  smile  upon  his  face. 
Carache  continued:  'But  we,  your  responsible  advisers, 
cannot  allow  you  to  jeopardize  your  valuable  life.  Sire, 
you  must  range  yourself.  The  Grand  Duchess  is  suitable 
in  every  way:  you  must  accept  the  hand  she  so  graciously 
offers  you.'  ' 

"What  about  Mu —  Lord  Framlingham's  daugh- 
ter? "  burst  out  Nicholas.  It  was  his  one  interruption. 

' '  Boy,  your  stupidity  is  incomprehensible.  Have  I  not 
told  you, — we  mean  to  move  the  Princess  down  to  Cannes. 
Brisson  is  to  take  her  directly  after  Christmas.  She  will 
remain  there  till  baby  is  born — Louis  Walter  Napoleon 
Paul.  That  civilizes  them;  you  may  be  sure  she  won't 
get  up  to  any  more  tricks  after  that.  Catharine  Petrovna 
and  she  are  likely  in  time  to  become  very  good  friends. 
Don't  interrupt  again ;  I  am  nearly  done.  Napoleon's 
answer  brought  forward  the  same  objection.  '  I  should 
be  delighted,'  the  dear  little  creature  murmured,  '  only 
I  am  already  engaged.'  Carache  at  once  began  to 
soothe  him;  made  Felix  pour  him  out  some  more  mix- 
ture, and  put  the  glass  and  bottle  at  his  elbow.  And 
when  Majesty  had  revived  himself,  he  merely  murmured 


570  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

once  more,  'I  am  engaged.  The  Princess,  you  know  — 
Elizabeth  of  Pierrefonds  —  Meaux  —  you  follow  me? '  So 
the  Premier  became  very  stern,  giving  our  friend  the  only 
rough  word  throughout  the  whole  of  the  interview. 
'  Please  understand,  sire,  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of 
Pierrefonds  is  entirely  out  of  the  question.  Her  High- 
ness knows  it  better  than  you,  it  seems.  She  does  not 
expect  it,  of  that  you  may  be  quite  sure.  I  have  no 
wish  to  be  cruel,  but  a  burst  of  scornful  laughter  from 
the  whole  civilized  world  would  accompany  you  two  on 
your  progress  to  the  altar.  The  thing  cannot  be;  once 
and  for  all,  it  cannot  be.'  'But  my  word  of  honour?' 
moaned  the  little  wretch.  *  You  must  break  it.  She 
will  forget  it  in  a  month  or  two  amid  the  pleasures  of 
maternity.  Little  Prince  Louis  Walter  Napoleon  Paul 
of  Pierrefonds' — you  may  wager  he  blushed  —  'will  dis- 
perse all  your  cares, — all  your  remorse.  Sire,  in  kings 
the  heart  is  nearer  the  left  hand,'  which  I  call  an  absurd 
remark.  'I  only  wish,'  this  Carache,  not  me,  '  my  little 
one  were  back  again.'  'But  —  but  — '  flounders  the 
Lord's  anointed,  'I  se — I  de —  I  —  I  treated  her  as  my 
wife  solely  on  the  understanding  that  she  should  become 
such.'  'That  is  her  business.'  'But  Carache,  Carache, 
I  love  her! '  '  The  Grand  Duchess  Catharine  Petrovna,' 
I  here  remarked,  '  will  not  interfere  with  the  usual  facil- 
ities.' 'But  Carache,  Carache,  I  cannot  live  away  from 
her! '  Then  the  marvellous  fellow  arose  in  all  his  might 
and  played  his  last  card.  '  Sire,  I  present  you  with  the 
sole  other  alternative.  You  must  abdicate.'  Nicholas, 
you  should  have  seen  the  Emperor's  face.  'Abdicate!' 
he  repeated,  like  one  dazed.  '  Yes,  sire,  abdicate.  His 
Imperial  Highness  here  will  take  your  place.  He  is 
ready.'  'I  am  ready,'  Felix  acquiesced:  Napoleon  V, 
you  know, —  it  will  sound  rather  well.'  'Carache,  are 
you  serious?' gasped  Napoleon  IV.  'Alas,  sire,  abso- 
lutely. Monsieur  Prehlen  has  his  documents;  I  have 
mine.  You  must  sign  one  or  the  other  before  we  leave 
you.'  'And  you,  Cousin  Felix,  will  you  participate  in 
this  treachery?'  'But,  dear  cousin,  there  is  no  treachery. 
I  have  a  greater  right  than  the  Princess's  illegitimate 
offspring.'  'Very  well,'  retorted  Bonaparte,  as  calmly 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  571 

as  you  and  I  are  chatting  here,  '  then  I  accept  Catharine 
Pet — ,  whatever  her  miserable  name  is.'  I  shuddered, 
and  got  the  papers  ready.  He  shut  his  eyes  tight  and 
signed  his  name  to  the  marriage  preliminaries;  then  he 
flung  down  his  pen,  murmuring,  '  The  gods  were  right: 
Pimli — ';  though  what  he  meant,  I  really  cannot  tell 
you.  I  ejaculated,  'Sire,  one  minute  —  there  remains  the 
offensive  alliance ! '  '  Oh,  I  have  got  a  word  to  say  about 
that,'  remarked  Carache,  the  snake  and  thief.  'We 
cannot  embark  on  war  yet  a  while  —  really  we  cannot.' 
'Very  well,'  myself,  with  extreme  hauteur;  '  no  war,  no 
Petrovna.'  '  I  wish  to  God  she  were  at  the  bottom  of 
Red  Sea,'  murmurs  Napoleon.  'Sire,'  I  answer,  brief 
and  contemptuous,  'she  enjoys  a  face  like  a  dream.' 
'  Come,'  says  Carache,  '  we  are  n't  going  to  knock  a  hole 
in  the  boat  just  as  we  sight  land.  You  gave  us  a  de- 
fensive alliance  against  Germany.  We  will  do  the  same 
by  you  now.'  'If  you  fancy  we  intend  to  demean  our- 
selves by  tackling  the  Sea  Spider  alone,  you  make  a  very 
great  mistake.'  But  in  the  end,  dear  disciple,  I  had  to 
take  a  defensive  alliance,  with  the  chance  of  converting 
it  in  a  year  or  so.  I  promised  Carache,"  mused  the  art- 
less fellow,  "  not  to  do  anything  to  disturb  the  statuquo" 
Then  he  added  in  a  burst  of  childish  glee: 

"I  say,  Nicky,  won't  we  pull  the  crocodile's  tail?" 
"My  precious  ward  and  nephew,"  he  proceeded, 
breaking  into  poetry,  "very  little  remains.  We  put  our 
horrid  business  to  one  side,  and  spent  a  most  enjoyable 
evening.  The  four  of  us  sat  down  to  a  recherche  supper: 
the  plovers'  eggs  and  champagne  left  the  greatest  mark 
upon  my  memory.  Abstemious  little  Bonaparte  got  quite 
tipsy.  Towards  the  end,  he  insisted  on  making  a  speech  all 
about  '  Mu —  Muri —  Catha —  Catharine,'  and  wound  it  up 
by  smashing  a  glass  to  the  honour  of  '  love —  love —  lovely 
women.'  Ah,  Nicholas,  these  dirty  Westerners  can't 
get  drunk  like  gentlemen.  Before  we  left,  we  carried 
him  back  to  his  study.  The  last  I  saw  of  him,  he  was 
sobbing  on  his  sofa,  murmuring  '  Muriel  Petrovna! ' 
'  Muriel  Petrovna !  '  On  our  way  home,  Carache  informed 
me  that  Felix's  intervention  alone  has  cost  the  Treasury 
a  hundred  thousand  francs.  Still,  we  need  not  grumble: 


572  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

it 's  all  to  our  benefit.  There,  Nick,  you  have  the  whole 
story." 

"I  am  not  so  sure,"  Nicholas  answered,  a  break  be- 
tween every  word.  His  icy  deliberateness  startled 
Prehlen. 

"Why,  lad,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  Why  do 
you  sit  there  glaring  at  me  like  that?  I  tried  my  hardest 
to  get  the  full  alliance.  And  your  face  is  the  colour  of 
cigar-ash!  —  my  grandson,  what  is  the  trouble,  then?" 

"And  you  think  you  have  acted  like  honourable 
men?"  burst  out  poor  Fersen. 

A  faint  light  dawned  upon  his  master's  face.  He 
whistled;  and  then  as  if  he  really  could  not  contain 
himself,  he  broke  out  into  a  loud  guffaw. 

"Of  course,"  he  shook  out,  "the  Framlinghams  — 
Tipton  —  Southampton  Havre — Muriel  Petrovna  —  I 
really  had  forgotten  all  about  that.  Well,  Nicholas, 
now's  your  chance.  Spend  a  quiet  month  with  her  at 
Cannes,  dear  boy.  She  will  be  ready  enough,  I  '11  war- 
rant. But  mind,  no  follies!  No  Countess  Fersen,  or 
rubbish  of  that  sort.  What  should  I  say  to  your 
mother? " 

The  Count  sprang  to  his  feet.  Prehlen  went  with 
him  to  the  door,  soothing  him  the  while.  "Now,  dear 
son,  go  and  get  some  sleep.  I  shall  want  you  this  even- 
ing to  take  documents  to  the  Palace." 

But  Fersen  was  not  meditating  bed  just  then.  Even 
amid  the  throes  of  Prehlen's  hideous  narrative  he  had 
taken  his  resolve.  And  being  a  different  sort  of  man  to 
his  successful  rival,  he  set  about  its  fulfilment  then  and 
there.  His  fur-lined  overcoat  and  soft  felt  hat  lay 
where  he  had  flung  them  on  his  table.  He  donned  them 
in  sober  silence  without  resort  to  gasconade,  mental  or 
muttered.  He  reached  the  Rue  de  Strasbourg  by  noon: 
it  kept  him  an  hour  within  its  stifling  waiting-room. 
He  could  bear  it;  each  minute  brought  him  nearer  his 
beloved. 

The  seventy  minutes  or  so  of  actual  journey  he  spent 
reading  and  re-reading  a  letter  (in  faultless  French  and 
violet  ink)  which  his  mother  had  written  for  him,  to  humour 
him,  and  because  she  was  a  fond  old  woman  unable  to  deny 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  573 

her  Promise  anything.  But  neither  mother  nor  son  ever 
really  thought  the  girl  would  need  it.  Sometimes,  truly, 
among  the  autumn  woods  at  Dmitroff,  when  the  tears 
would  start  unsummoned,  tears  that  come  alone  in  grief 
for  those  dear  ones  that  are  irrevocable,  he  would  suffer 
his  mind  to  dwell  on  this  contingency.  For  his  own  sake 
as  much  as  her's  he  always  stifled  the  beginnings  of  the 
dream;  sweet  still,  alas! — such  was  his  devotion.  He 
always  stifled  it;  and  behold  with  how  much  need! 

If  Paris  had  been  cold,  Meaux  with  fewer  houses 
likened  the  North  Pole.  The  vehicle  which  crawled 
him  from  the  station  even  pierced  his  furs.  But  the  first 
sight  of  the  Villa  Yvonne  managed  to  strike  a  peculiar 
little  chill  of  its  own  to  his  already  frozen  heart.  The 
warmth  returned,  however,  when  he  discovered  how 
easily  he  seemed  to  make  his  way  into  her  presence.  The 
woman  who  answered  his  summons  accepted  the  whole 
six  foot  of  him  as  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world. 
She  told  him  the  Princess  was  at  home,  and  disappeared 
to  take  the  latter  word,  while  Nicholas  waited  in  what 
smelt  to  his  nostrils  like  the  Emperor's  study.  And  she 
would  see  him  too.  His  frame  commenced  to  burn. 
He  could  scarcely  get  himself  across  the  threshold. 
His  heart  surged  and  surged  again  at  her  first  cry  of 
greeting — "  Dear  Nicholas,  how  good  of  you  to  come!  " 
And  his  brain  never  forgot  her  as  he  saw  her  then  at 
that  last  lamentable  meeting.  His  life  still  had  many 
years  to  run — years  spent  among  the  silences  of  Dmitroff 
and  the  waste  of  bitter  memories,  shorn  altogether  of  the 
love  and  brightness  and  children  he  might  have  looked 
for,  brave  man  and  pure  that  he  was, — but  he  never 
forgot  her  as  he  saw  her  then. 

Ah,  how  our  fancies  aid  us.  Girt  about  with  all  his 
chivalrous  love,  yet  he  read  the  bitter  difference  in  her 
since  their  last  meeting  at  Compiegne.  He  knew,  he 
knew  she  had  eaten  of  the  tree.  The  ivory-tinted  face 
was  pallor  now,  pallor  with  deepening  lines.  He  could 
hardly  meet  the  feverish  brilliance  of  the  eyes.  He 
dared  not  look  down  at  her  fragile  figure.  The  fact  that 
(pleased  as  she  seemed  to  see  him)  she  had  not  risen  car- 
ried its  bitter  meaning.  The  stain  touched  everything, 


574  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

soiling  her  white  dress  and  her  piteous  spriteliness.  My 
God !  are  we  mortals  then  so  rich  to  start  with,  that  we 
can  do  these  things! 

Our  poor  young  people,  who  might  have  been  so  happy 
if  only  Ambition  had  departed  this  world  with  Immor- 
tality and  Innocence,  spent  but  a  short  time  on  triviali- 
ties. Perhaps  because  they  lacked  trivialities  to  spend 
time  on.  She  asked  him  about  Dmitroff  and  got  no 
further;  while  he — he  could  not  even  reach  Dover.  So 
before  long  he  opened  the  purpose  of  his  coming.  It 
went  to  his  heart  to  have  to  do  it, — what  did  not 
go  to  his  heart  that  hideous  afternoon?  But  he  had 
resolved  to  give  her  the  substance  of  Prehlen's  story. 
The  truest  kindness  he  grieved,  demanded  it.  And  hav- 
ing decided  so  much — well,  he  wasn't  Napoleon.  He 
omitted  very  little,  certainly  neither  the  sal  volatile  nor 
the  closing  debauch.  And  it  helped  him  when  he  found 
how  quietly  she  took  it,  though  he  had  never  doubted 
either  her  shrewdness  of  judgment  or  her  sense.  She 
heard  him  to  the  bitter  end  without  even  a  sigh  to  inter- 
rupt him.  There  were  no  covert  tears,  no  outbursts  of 
frenzied  indignation,  nothing  save  unconquerable  weari- 
ness, with  now  and  again  a  gentle  smile  for  the  stam- 
mering narrator. 

"Ah,  Nicholas,"  she  said  when  he  had  finished,  "I 
know  now." 

He  took  her  meaning  instantly. 

"  Muriel,  it  is  not  yet  too  late.  Twice  I  asked  you, 
and  twice  you  could  not  answer.  Now  I  ask  you  again. 
See,  my  mother  asks  you  too,"  and  he  thrust  the  letter 
into  her  hand.  "  Muriel,  we  wrote  it  that  day  I  received 
your  answer;  we  did  not  know  but  that  you  would  need 
it  after  all.  And  you  do  need  it,  Muriel;  and  you  will 
do  what  it  asks?  " 

She  read  it  calmly  through.  It  summoned  up  the  only 
tears  she  shed  that  day.  For  a  moment  she  wavered. 

"And  go  with  you  at  once  to  Russia?"  she  mur- 
mured. 

"Yes,  yes.  The  room  is  ready  for  you.  You  shall 
have  a  year  in  peace  alone  with  my  dear  mother.  You 
shall  not  see  a  soul  except  her.  And  then,  Muriel — per- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  575 

haps  next  New  Year's  Eve — when  you  are  calm  again  and 
fairly  happy,  you  shall  give  me  my  final  answer.  Muriel, 
I  ask  you  the  question  still.  You  must  confess  I  am 
waiting  patiently." 

Her  weakness  continued. 

"How  noble  you  are,    Nicholas.     I  fear — I  fear," 
she  sobbed,  "  I  should  only  disgrace  your  name." 

"Darling,  do  not  speak  like  that.  We  need  not  give 
the  matter  a  thought  yet  awhile.  You  are  coming  with 
me  to  Russia? — to-night!  Anything  to  be  rid  of  this 
accursed  place. 

"  If  only  I  had  listened  to  you  earlier!  How  I  want  a 
strong  arm  to  help  me!  Nicholas,  I  shall  never  get  it." 

And  then  all  the  old  weariness  returned.  If  it  were 
only  herself — this  was  the  gist  of  what  she  said,  and 
she  said  it  without  flinching — she  would  go  that  night 
Heaven  knew  she  felt  no  desire  to  continue  the  hateful 
struggle.  Yes,  she  would  fly  that  night  to  the  haven  his 
goodness  offered.  She  never  wished  to  set  further  eyes 
upon  the  miserable  coward,  whose  strength  had  been  her 
blind  stupidity. 

"But — "  and  she  said  no  more,  leaving  the  hideous 
aposiopesis  to  blister  in  his  heart.  So  she  must  fight  it 
out  to  the  bitter  end.  Nor  did  she  despair  of  ultimate 
victory.  No  one  had  better  cause  to  know  the  char- 
acter of  her  precious  opponent. 

"Nicholas,  he  is  rotten  to  the  core.  He  is  vacillat- 
ing and  mean-spirited  and  a  coward.  Before  I  met  him, 
I  never  knew  to  what  lengths  human  timidity  could  go. 
You  should  have  seen  him  the  night  Nadez  tried  to  kill 
him  " — and  she  did  not  even  shudder:  it  was  the  old 
moral  insensibility  Napoleon  had  loved  in  days  gone  by; 
— "the  cur  actually  fainted.  Even  little  Paul  noticed. 
And  with  it  all,  he  fancies  himself  the  greatest  hero  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  He  firmly  believes  that  he  won 
both  Parfondrupt  and  Francheville;  though  all  the  world 
knows  the  contrary.  Nicholas,  it  is  true;  he  was  in  bed 
the  whole  twenty-four  hours  which  hold  those  victories. 
He  confessed  as  much  to  me — one  night,"  and  she 
winced  now.  "And  Nicholas,  his  lies!  God  knows  I 
do  not  excuse  myself;  but — but — you  will  believe,  dear 


576  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

Nicholas,  I  should  never  have  done  this  awful  thing, 
only — only — he  swore  so  many  oaths.  Nicholas,  I 
never  loved  him.  Why  did  n't  some  one  help  me?  I 
was  only  a  poor,  silly  girl.  No,  no,  of  course  no  one 
thought  of  giving  me  a  helping  hand.  I  was  Muriel  " 
— all  spoken  with  biting  scorn — "  'father's  little  coun- 
sellor,' the  one  he  always  went  to  for  advice.  So,  natur- 
ally, no  one  thought  that  I  could  stumble — oh,  Nicholas, 
our  wretched  reputations!" 

"I  wanted  to  help  you,"  he  answered  faintly.  "Do 
you  forget  that  afternoon  coming  back  from  Pierre- 
fonds?" 

She  did  not  forget;  but  she  said  nothing. 

She  resumed  presently  with  the  more  fruitful  topic. 

"You  can  hardly  imagine  I  welcome  the  prospect.  If 
I  considered  myself  alone,  I  would  never  see  the  black- 
hearted wretch  again.  But,  alas,  I  must  make  him 
marry  me.  And  I  can  make  him;  no  one  knows  what  a 
creature  he  is.  And  when  he  has  performed  his  word,  I 
shall  live  quite  away  from  him — Fontainebleau,  perhaps 
— and  scarcely  see  him  once  in  the  twelve  months."  It 
was  the  ruling  passion  strong  in  death.  The  picture  of 
that  dignified  retirement,  which  should  hold  the  nation's 
hope,  pleased  her  and  soothed  her  a  little.  To  Nicholas 
it  seemed  the  last  conscious  use  of  her  sceptre.  She 
knew — he  could  not  help  thinking — he  loved  her  still; 
and  so  she  strove  thus  to  comfort  him. 

"He  may  say  what  he  likes  about  scandal  and  the 
rest,"  she  went  on,  getting  more  and  more  peaceful;  "I 
will  take  no  part  in  public  life.  He  will  have  to  manage 
his  court  as  best  he  can  alone;  I  won't  help  him.  I  shall 
have  my  own  work  to  do,  if — "  and  she  broke  off  in 
manifest  confusion. 

"And  suppose  you  do  not  succeed — what  then?" 

"Ah,"  she  answered,  once  more  quite  weary,  "I  do 
not  think  that  is  likely." 

"But,  you  will  remember,"  he  pleaded. 

"Yes,  I  will  remember.  And,  Nicholas,  I  thank  you 
both  very  much." 

"Tell  me,"  he  began  afresh,  "what  about  your  peo- 
ple?" 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  577 

She  merely  shook  her  head. 

"Has  not  Walter  even  been  to  see  you?" 

"Do  not  be  angry  with  him,  Nicholas.  Poor  boy,  he 
feels  the  dis — he  feels  it  very  much." 

"I  call  him  little  better  than  a  coward.  I  thought 
higher  of  him  than  that." 

"He  was  coming,"  and  the  subject  seemed  to  tire 
her;  "he  was  coming.  Mother  wrote  me  only  a  week 
ago  and  told  me  to  expect  him  any  day.  But  the  week 
has  gone.  He  won't  come  now.  What's  the  use?" 

So  their  words  drifted  away  into  trivialities,  and 
thence  into  silence.  He  rose  to  go;  first  bending  over 
her  hand  with  tender  reverence.  And  she — she  dared 
to  touch  his  head  with  burning  lips,  an  impulse  of  irrev- 
ocable farewell.  She  loved  him  now;  and  so  she 
fancied  she  had  loved  him  always.  Perhaps  she  had.  If 
she  could  not  tell  one  way  or  the  other,  when  he  used  to 
ask  the  question ;  certainly  no  one  else  can. 

He  got  back  to  his  room  in  the  Rue  de  Grenelle  to 
find  no  less  a  person  than  Lord  Mendril  pale  and  shiver- 
ing in  his  arm-chair.  And  the  young  Russian's  temper 
being  such,  he  welcomed  the  Englishman  with  words 
hardly  calculated  to  warm  him.  It  was  in  every  way  a 
most  chilling  reception. 

"So  you  have  condescended  to  come  at  last,"  he 
muttered,  scornfully.  "How  really  noble  of  you!  I 
wonder  you  did  not  send  Charles  instead.  He  seems  to 
manage  all  these  delicate  matters.  And  your  dear 
father,  I  trust  he  is  very  well?  You  may  be  pleased  to 
hear  that  I  have  just  returned  from  Meaux;  also  that 
your  sister  is  thinking  of  accepting  an  invitation  from 
my  mother  to  spend  the  winter  at  Dmitroff.  And  the 
young  lord  merely  hung  his  head. 

For  a  long  time  Muriel  remained  where  Fersen  left 
her,  inert  and  lifeless.  She  felt  no  surprise.  She 
always  knew  that  her  lover  was  capable  of  any  treach- 
ery. The  night  she  saved  his  life,  he  went  off  vowing 
that  not  another  day  should  divide  her  from  her  re- 
ward. And  already  three  weeks  had  fled,  and  such  was 
the  gift  brought  by  the  beginning  of  the  fourth.  How 
she  despised  him! — how  she  despised  herself!  She  still 


578  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

awaited  a  reply  to  that  last  indignant  letter  of  hers, 
which  now  reposed  in  Prehlen's  bosom.  The  delay  did 
not  disquiet  her.  Her  power  continued;  her  confidence 
in  it  was  no  mere  idle  boasting.  But  she  also  recog- 
nized that  power's  prevailing  source,  and  she  shuddered. 
Assuredly  his  love  must  lead  him  here  to-night — his  love! 
she  shuddered  again.  He  would  come  slinking  in  like 
some  whipt  cur,  all  lies  and  promises.  He  would  de- 
part 'refreshed  and  strengthened  '  (to  use  his  own  in- 
flated phrases),  all  promises  and  lies. 

And  suppose  after  all,  his  perjured  weakness  proved 
invincible?  Take  it  he  crowned  his  shifts  and  treach- 
eries with  this  Russian  marriage — what  then?  She  sur- 
veyed the  possibility,  nor  even  faltered.  Nay,  she  might 
have  welcomed  it,  if  only — once  again  that  ellipsis  which 
had  cut  so  deep  into  Fersen's  soul.  She  wanted  no 
more  thrones.  She  would  have  bartered  Windsor  itself 
to  be  rid  of  this  hateful  man.  And  the  shame?  She 
could  not  think  of  that;  the  miseries  of  the  last  two 
months  had  swamped  it.  We  cannot  all  achieve  the  an- 
tique Roman  model.  Even  Lucrece  might  have  been 
less  precipitate  after  eight  weeks  of  horror.  It  isn't  re- 
morse that  swells  the  yearly  lists  of  suicides,  but  very 
present  worry.  We  kill  ourselves  to  escape,  not  to  ex- 
piate. The  poor  woman  yearned  for  a  little  peace.  The 
silent  woods  at  Dmitroff  tempted  her.  Perhaps,  the 
Assuager  reaches  us  that  way.  She  longed  to  feel  the 
soothing  of  His  fingers. 

But  the  unborn  child,  whom  both  had  wronged,  de- 
manded a  last  attempt.  And  she  never  doubted  the 
result.  To-night  he  should  not  leave  her  until  the  thing 
was  settled  beyond  recall.  Her  plan  stood  ready  within 
her  brain. 

But  Napoleon's  usual  hour  passed  without  him.  Paul 
returned  full  of  health  from  a  walk  that  had  taken  him 
beyond  Lagny.  They  supped;  then  went  together  to 
her  room  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the  evening  She 
got  herself  a  book — Cashmere  still,  and  the  first  pages — 
and  dropped  into  her  usual  chair.  The  boy  sat  near  her, 
sprawling  over  a  letter  to  Avize.  He  was  to  go  home 
next  day. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  579 

And  this  meant  her  New  Year's  Eve,  she  pondered 
mournfully.  But  she  resolutely  turned  her  straying 
thoughts  from  Tipton.  Dmitroff  would  lead  her  thither 
even  yet. 

Half-past  eight — then  he  intended  to  come  to-morrow 
instead.  Well,  she  felt  in  no  particular  hurry.  So  she 
put  him  quite  out  of  her  mind,  and  settled  to  her 
travels.  She  may  not  have  known  it,  but  her  inclina- 
tion was  leading  her  nearer  and  nearer  the  more  peace- 
ful way. 

Suddenly  she  flung  her  book  to  one  side. 

"Paul,"  she  cried,  "I  am  going  to  Paris." 

He  stared. 

"I  am  going  to  Paris,  Paul;  and  you  must  accompany 
me." 

"But  I  do  not  understand?" 

"Child,  the  thing  is  perfectly  simple.  He  arranged 
— but  I  am  not  bound  to  give  you  reasons.  Run  and 
get  your  things  on.  Also  tell  Eugenie  to  order  the  car- 
riage. Paul,  before  you  go,  answer  me  this,  do  you  want 
to  do  the  Emperor  a  great  service,  one  greater  even 
than  the  other  night?" 

"Cousin  Muriel,"  in  tones  of  reproach. 

"Listen  then.  When  we  get  to  the  Elyse"e,  you  must 
manage  to  guide  me  into  and  through  the  palace  so  that 
I  can  reach  his  Majesty's  study  without  meeting  a 
soul." 

The  boy's  brow  clouded.  "I  do  not  see  how  I  am  to 
do  that  for  you." 

"Can  you  get  me  into  the  palace?"  she  asked. 

"I  think  so,"  he  said,  still  doubtful  however.  "But 
I  know  of  no  private  corridors." 

"We  must  trust  the  public  ones.  Only  the  Emperor 
is  anxious  that  I  should  be  seen  by  as  few  people  as  pos- 
sible. He  said  you  would  be  a  safe  guide." 

"Did  his  Majesty  really  mention  my  name?" 

"Yes." 

"I  will  do  my  best,"  and  the  little  fellow  trotted  off 
to  the  beginnings  of  his  task,  proud  as  Lucifer. 

And  he  did  his  best.  Arrived  at  the  Paris  terminus, 
he  insisted  on  mounting  beside  the  driver  (and  amid 


580  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

falling  snow),  the  better  to  pilot  that  worthy  to  his  own 
usual  door.  His  usual  gen-d'armes  happened  to  be 
guarding  it,  and  demanded  no  explanations.  The  stray 
servants  whom  they  met  along  the  silent  passages  wanted 
none  either.  The  nearest  they  came  to  peril  was  the 
faint  outline  of  old  Godefroy  stalking  along  in  front  of 
them.  They  halted,  and  presently  the  shadow  disap- 
peared. So  he  brought  her  out  upon  the  sacred  thresh- 
old. Lifting  his  hand,  he  said  simply: 

"The  Emperor's  study." 

His  Majesty  might  have  been  in  the  midst  of  a  coun- 
cil of  Ministers,  it  would  have  made  no  difference.  With- 
out the  faintest  pretence  at  tapping  she  pushed  into  the 
room. 

"My  dear  child,"  Paul  heard  in  faltering  accents, 
"this  is  most  indiscreet,"  and  the  door  closed  and  the 
little  fellow  turned  away.  The  boy  remained  a  devoted 
Imperialist  to  the  end  of  his  days.  And  though  the 
habit  of  evil-speaking  never  found  its  way  into  his  na- 
ture, he  could  never  get  himself  to  say  a  good  word  for 
the  Fourth  Republic,  still  less  for  any  of  its  rulers. 

The  Monarch  lay  stretched  full  length  upon  the  great 
consoler.  He  made  no  attempt  to  rise.  His  bilious 
countenance  had  taken  a  greenish  tinge  from  last  night's 
debauch.  The  usual  saffron  of  his  face  had  gone  into 
his  tired  eyes.  His  matted  hair  obscured  all  vestige  of 
a  parting.  He  resembled  his  great-grandfather  as  he 
had  never  done  before.  She  could  not  help  but  notice 
it,  busy  as  her  poor  brain  was  with  other  things. 

She  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  laid  a 
sinister-looking  parcel  upon  the  table. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  faltered  out  once  more,  "this  is 
most  indiscreet."  But  the  poor  creature  made  no  at- 
tempt to  rise :  he  preferred  to  feel  the  pressure  of  sup- 
port all  along  his  frame  in  times  of  trouble,  and  the  sofa 
could  only  do  that  for  him. 

The  girl  glanced  defiantly  at  every  part  of  the  pros- 
trate form  except  the  face.  "I  cannot  help  the  indiscre- 
tion," she  blazed.  "I  am  sick  and  tired  of  your  excuses. 
I  have  come  to  ask  you  a  single  question.  I  had  a  visit 
from  Nicholas  Fersen  this  afternoon,  he — " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  581 

"Oh,  dear,"  groaned  Bonaparte,  "Muriel,  I  wish  you 
wouldn't.  You  do  your  reputation  no  good  by  receiving 
such  characters." 

"You  hypocrite." 

"Muriel  be  reasonable." 

"I  have  not  come  to  talk  and  argue,"  she  retorted 
vehemently.  "I  have  heard  words  enough  from  you. 
Answer  me  this,  is  it  true  that  you  have  signed  a  con- 
tract to  marry  that  Russian  thing?  You  are  blushing — 
you  have  signed  it,  you  coward!  You  coward!" 

The  brilliance  of  the  lamp  directly  above  her  clothed 
her  form.  The  silk  shawl,  her  only  headgear,  had  fallen 
away,  her  cloak  as  well.  She  was  in  evening  dress. 
Her  skin  glistened  under  the  light  (and  under  jewels  as 
well),  as  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  in  the  wrath  that  shook 
her  frame.  For  a  single  instant  the  love  of  former  days 
surged  back  into  his  heart.  The  present  image  of  her 
which  it  held  lay  seared  by  his  desires.  The  vapours 
cleared  away.  She  was  again  the  careless  schoolgirl 
whom  he  had  met  beside  the  river  in  days  gone  by,  and 
whom  he  had  loved  so  much.  But  her  menacing  gest- 
ures recalled  the  ugly  memories  that  cut  both  off  from 
her  sweet  innocence.  He  began  in  his  turn  to  get  angry. 
"  If  I  have  signed  it,"  he  grumbled,  "it  is  merely  as 
a  subterfuge." 

"You  traitor." 

"Muriel,  I  won't  be  spoken  to  like  that." 

"Of  course,  I  am  to  humour  you  and  flatter  your  child- 
ish vanity,  and  profess  to  be  satisfied  with  your  lying 
promises.  But  I  won't  be  satisfied  with  them  any  longer. 
I  have  had  enough  of  them." 

"Cannot  you  be  reasonable,  Muriel?" 

She  laughed  shrilly.  Could  this  sneering  creature  be 
his  divinity  of  former  days?  Really  he  commenced  to 
loathe  her. 

"It  is  easy  for  you  to  talk  of  reason, "  she  cried. 
And  that's  just  what  it  was — very,  very  easy.  Why 
make  further  fuss  about  the  matter?  his  heart  kept  mur- 
muring. The  mischief  had  been  done.  Not  the  heaviest 
ermine  robe  in  Christendom  would  wipe  away  the  mem- 
ory of  this  scandal.  Then  let  them  both  accept  the 


582  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

situation,  and  be  happy  in  the  way  Carache  suggested. 
Anything  for  a  quiet  life,  groaned  his  torpid  and  easily 
placated  conscience.  And  this  seemed  the  simplest — 
the  only  road  out  of  a  sordid  intrigue.  So  he  started  off 
once  more,  and  in  gentler  tones: 

"My  dear  Muriel,  let  us  be  reasonable.  Let  us  re- 
view the  situation  like  sensible  people.  The  dearest 
wish  of  my  life,  you  do  n't  need  me  to  repeat  it,  is  to 
make  you  my  wife.  My  wife!  What  do  I  say?" — and 
he  became  for  the  moment  quite  genial — "my  Empress 
I  mean;  for  my  wife  you  are  already,  and  nothing  can 
ever  part  us.  And  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  shall  be  able 
to  effect  this  last  step,  if  only  we  proceed  very,  very  cau- 
tiously. My  little  gi — my  wife  must  not  do  anything 
injudicious.  She  mustn't,  for  instance,  come  rushing 
up  to  Paris  at  dead  of  night,  or  give  interviews  to  loose 
young  attaches  who  try  to  alienate  her  from  her  hus — 
from  her  Walter  by  means  of  silly  lies.  She  must  not,  in 
a  word,  make  my  task  more  difficult  than  it  is.  For  it 
is  difficult,  very  difficult.  I  won't  hide  from  you  that 
sometimes  I  despair  of  success.  They  put  such  obstacles 
in  my  way.  Prehlen  and  Carache  between  them  never 
leave  me  a  single  minute.  The  latter  won't  even  let  me 
mention  your  name:  he  burkes  any  discussion  I  may  try 
to  start  on  this  dear  topic.  The  Russian  makes  my  life 
a  burden  with  the  praises  of  that  infamous  Catharine. 
He  leaves  her  photographs  about  the  room;  he  shall 
find  that  I  am  not  the  man  to  be  intimidated  by  photo- 
graphs— even  when  they  are  cabinet  size  and  as  ugly  as 
hers  are.  But  Muriel,  we  must  go  slowly.  Nay,  dearest, 
do  not  interrupt  me;  hear  me  to  the  end.  We  must  go 
slowly,  and  we  shall  succeed.  Suppose,  however,  we  are 
beaten;  that  we  have  to  bow  to  superior  force — Muriel, 
Muriel,  I  beg!  do  n't  give  way  to  ugly  violence;  my  sup- 
position is  merely  a  supposition;  only  we  must  review 
the  whole  situation  like  sensible  people.  Suppose,  then, 
Carache  and  Prehlen  and  the  grand  duchess  prove  too 
much  for  me.  (O,  Muriel,  why  were  n't  you  a  grand 
duchess?)  Should  we  not  do  well  to  accept  the  defeat? 
Let  us  be  happy  in  spite  of — " 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  583 

She  would  keep  silent  no  longer.  Her  face  and  neck 
were  scarlet  with  anger. 

"Say  at  once  that  I  am  to  remain  your  mistress." 

"Muriel  do  n't  use  that  ugly  word,"  he  shuddered. 

"No,  but  you  do  n't  mind  ugly  deeds.  You  decoyed 
me  down  to  Compiegne  to  de — " 

"Good  Heavens,"  he  shouted,  shuddering  again, 
"have  you  not  more  modesty  than  that?" 

"It  is  the  truth." 

Even  a  worm  will  turn  in  time.  Her  fury,  the  un- 
compromising directness  with  which  she  told  him  what 
she  thought  of  him,  and  her  not  infrequent  lapses  into 
scornful  laughter  roused  a  corresponding  temper  in  her 
opponent.  He  likewise  began  to  laugh;  the  same  pleas- 
ant, genial  gaiety  as  hers. 

"O,  yes,  it  is  the  truth,"  he  retorted,  "we  men  are 
always  to  blame  in  these  matters.  Of  course  I  enticed 
you  down  to  Compiegne.  It  was  I  who  encouraged  you 
and  your  sche — your  mother  to  disobey  the  Earl's  com- 
mand to  refuse  De  Morin's  invitation,  of  course,  of 
course.  And  it  was  all  hypocrisy  on  my  part,  when  I 
offered  to  renounce  you — all  hypocrisy,  and  in  reality 
part  of  my  plan  to  get  you  in  my  power.  You  are  not 
to  blame,  are  you?"  and  his  irony  rose  to  sublime  heights 
at  this  point;  he  really  could  not  get  any  further  for  the 
sheer  humour  of  the  thing.  As  for  Muriel,  she  was  fum- 
bling with  the  lace  about  her  bosom.  If  her  cowardly 
lover  had  only  known  it,  he  was  nearer  at  that  moment 
to  a  taste  of  Nadez's  pistol  than  he  had  been  formerly 
when  the  Eurasian  had  it  (and  him)  in  his  grasp.  So  he 
went  on  merrily,  his  rage  still  at  white  heat: 

"Of  course,  of  course,  I  planned  it  all  in  order  to  ruin 
you.  Naturally  it  never  entered  your  head — not  even 
down  by  the  Marne,  where  you  used  to  meet  me  night 
after  night — that  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  to  be  Empress 
of  France,  though  you  had  to  marry  a  man  you  never 
loved  in  order  to  achieve  this  dream.  You  never  in- 
trigued, did  you?  You  did  n't  follow  me  to  Paris,  nor 
throw  open  a  house  which  you  had  never  lived  in  before? 
No,  no,  you  were  always  innocent  and  child-like  and  pure 


584  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

and  single-minded.  But  enough  of  this,"  in  tired  tones, 
turning  at  the  same  time  on  his  back  and  apostrophising 
the  ceiling;  "we  are  neither  of  us  in  a  condition  to  talk 
further  upon  this  painful  subject.  Ring  the  bell  for 
Godefroy.  He  will  get  you  quietly  back  to  Meaux.  I 
will  write  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  so,  when  we  are 
both  calmer.  But  I  warn  you,  Muriel,  your  brutality 
toward  me  to-night  has  shocked  and  grieved  me.  It 
has  shown  me  your  character  in  a  new  and  painful  light. 
I  love  you  still;  I  shall  treat  you  with  justice;  but  I 
cannot  henceforth  think  of  you  as  though  there  were 
nothing  between  us,  as  though  this  unhappy  incident  had 
never  happened.  Good-night,  Muriel.  The  bell  is  be- 
hind the  silver  Achilles  in  the  corner." 

"It  is  more  than  good-night,  you  traitor,"  she  replied 
with  a  deliberateness  which  managed  to  find  an  un- 
bruised  spot  in  his  already  much  mangled  nerves.  "I 
am  going  for  good.  I  shall  never  see  your  coward's  face 
again,  thank  God  for  it." 

"To  Count  Fersen,  I  presume?"  he  sneered. 

She  started. 

"Yes,  I  am  going  to  Russia." 

"Go  then,"  came  the  brutal  answer. 

But  the  dawning  life  within  her,  which  they  both  had 
wronged,  drove  her  to  make  a  last  attempt. 

"Walter,  you  cannot  be  so  cruel!" 

"Then  return  quietly  to  Meaux,  and  leave  me  in 
peace.  I  will  write  in  a  week  or  so.  All  will  come 
right  in  the  end." 

The  sinister-looking  parcel  lay  where  she  had  put  it, 
on  her  first  entry.  She  commenced  to  untie  the  string 
with  feverish  fingers.  Napoleon  turned  languidly  to  sur- 
vey her;  the  first  sight  of  its  contents  roused  him  from 
his  torpor. 

"My — our  proclamations!"  he  exclaimed,  flushing 
scarlet. 

"Count  Fersen  gave  them  to  me." 

"That  wretched  Prehlen!" 

"Dear  Walter,  do  n't  fail  me  now  that  I  want  your 
help  so  much.  I  trusted  you.  Post  these  off  to  the 
newspapers — " 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  585 

"Muriel,  how  can  you  be  so  foolish?" 

She  turned  at  once  to  the  lace  about  her  bosom.  It 
was  Nadez's  pistol;  and  she  laid  the  muzzle  with  much 
deliberation  against  her  temple. 

"Walter,  this  is  what  I  shall  do  if  you  refuse." 
She    did    it   all  very,  very  slowly;  for   a    trump    card 
which  consists  of  an  unloaded  pistol  has  to  be  used  dis- 
creetly.    Alas,    it   did    not   await    Napoleon's  yielding! 
There  was  a  flash,  and  then  a  sharp  report. 

"What — what — I  didn't  know — loaded — help,  I  am 
falling!"  and  she  stiffened  as  she  sank  to  the  ground. 
It  was  not  the  silence  of  the  woods  round  Dmitroff,  but 
something  just  as  quiet. 

"Godefroy!  she's  hurt  herself — she's  bleeding — come 
to  me!  Muriel,  get  up  and  help  me — I  am  fainting! 
Blood!  Godefroy — can't  you  hear?" 


Chapter  XIV 


He  did  not  faint,  but  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and 
shut  his  eyes  tight.  He  drew  his  knees  up  to  his  chin, 
at  the  same  time  burying  his  neck  between  his  shoul- 
ders. Thus  he  lay  like  a  ball,  dazed  and  cowering. 
The  flash,  the  report,  and  that  fearful  sight  which  came 
midway,  had  stunned  him.  He  was  powerless  to  think 
or  to  act.  He  could  only  listen. 

He  heard  Godefroy  burst  into  the  room.  He  heard 
the  startled  cry  the  valet  gave,  and  his  silent  withdrawal, 
to  leave  him,  unhappy  wretch  that  he  was,  quite  alone 
with  the  Horror  behind  him.  The  pitiable  creature  felt 
that  it  had  risen,  and  now  stood  bending  over  his  pros- 
trate body.  He  became  rigid  with  a  fresh  wave  of 
terror.  He  dared  scarcely  breathe. 

"Muriel!"  he  managed  to  gasp  out  presently.  He 
knew  quite  well  he  would  get  no  answer.  For  a  brief 
second  his  heart  was  swept  with  pity  for  his  loneliness. 

And  then  again  there  came  the  sound  of  wholesome 
men.  He  heard  their  awe-struck  whispering  as  they 
lifted  the  body.  The  slow  and  measured  step  that  fol- 
lowed trod  into  his  brain.  Then  all  was  silent. 

For  a  few  minutes  he  lay  absolutely  still.  Soon,  how- 
ever, a  blast  of  panic  seized  and  shook  him,  so  that  he 
cried  aloud  for  help.  No  help  came.  The  paroxysm 
only  served  to  further  exhaust  him.  And  by  and  by  he 
relapsed  into  his  former  dumb  prostration.  If  his  brain 
moved  at  all,  it  compassionated  his  own  hideous  flight. 
There  entered  into  it  no  thought — "poor  Muriel,  whom  I 
have  betrayed  and  killed."  He  had  journeyed  too  long 
in  a  fool's  paradise  for  the  scales  ever  to  drop  from  his 
eyes. 

At  last  he  had  discovered — he  kept  thinking — how 
easy  a  thing  it  was  to  be  hurried  into  the  midst  of  the 
586 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  587 

most  ghastly  tragedy,  even  with  men  who  made  it  a  rule 
never  to  swerve  from  their  virtue  and  their  good  inten- 
tions. He  hadn't  swerved;  of  that  he  felt  quite  con- 
fident. As  men  went,  his  life  would  bear  comparison 
with  any.  Yet  here  he  was  prostrate  in  the  shambles! 
If  only  the  Framlinghams  had  not  followed  him  to  Paris, 
or  the  Countess  had  obeyed  her  husband!  Why  had  n't 
she  shown  a  little  more  prudence,  a  little  more  modesty, 
during  that  fevered  week  at  Compiegne?  All  these  hor- 
rors might  thus  have  been  avoided;  and  at  this  moment 
he  would  have  been  leading  a  peaceful,  domestic  life  with 
Catharine  Petrovna.  Instead  of  which,  months  of  bother 
and  worry  lay  between  him  and  that  happy  time;  indeed 
he  very  much  feared  whether  he  would  ever  quite  purge 
his  brain  of  the  memory  of  her  horrible  death. 

Presently  he  became  conscious — vaguely  conscious, 
as  one  does  in  a  dream,  or  in  the  first  seconds  of  recov- 
ery from  fainting — of  some  one  in  the  room.  It  was  that 
abominable  cousin  Felix,  perched  on  the  head  of  his 
sofa,  the  little  wretch's  knees  brushing  Napoleon's 
brow,  while  the  little  wretch  himself  chattered  inanities 
as  though  this  were  not  the  chamber  of  death. 

"I  happened  to  be  passing,"  he  started  off,  44so  I  ran 
in  to  see  how  my  dear  boy  was.  I  dined  at  Prehlen's; 
truly  a  superb  dinner.  We  had  caviare  and  a  crotite- 
au-pot  which  would  have  made  a  codfish  weep,  and 
plovers  in  aspic  and  the  tenderest  duck  I  have  ever 
tasted  and  a  plum-pudding  a  I'araignee  de  mer  vaincue, 
not  to  mention  strawberries  and  an  ice  a  la  Grande 
Duchesse.  I  drank  Chablis  and  Moselle  and  champagne, 
because  I  think  it  is  wisest  never  to  mix  but  to  stick  to 
one  colour.  Carache  followed  my  example.  So  did 
Prehlen.  The  chamberlain  kept  to  port.  The  only 
others  of  the  party  were  one  of  Prehlen's  attaches, 
whom  the  Ambassador  called  Nicholas,  and  Nicholas's 
friend,  a  young  fellow  whom  I  should  imagine  was  an 
Englishman  by  the  marked  way  in  which  he  avoided  the 
plum-pudding.  These  young  men  mixed  their  wines  in 
the  most  disgusting  manner.  I  can't  think  what  induced 
his  Excellency  to  include  them  among  such  distinguished 
guests." 


588  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"Godefroy!"  groaned  Bonaparte. 

"It's  Felix, "  shouted  his  companion  in  tones  that  were 
meant  to  be  as  soothing  as  they  certainly  were  loud, 
"Felix,  your  affectionate  cousin  who  has  come  in  to 
make  tender  enquiries  about  your  health.  De  Morin  and 
Carache  both  said  that  you  were  n't  quite  the  thing  after 
our  little  party  last  night,  so  I  have  dropped  in  to  cheer 
you  up  and  sing  to  you  a  little.  Shall  I  sing  to  you?" 

"Godefroy!" 

"Hush,  dear  one,  don't  get  hysterical.  Listen,  I 
will  tell  you  what  we  talked  about  at  Prehlen's.  We  had 
a  most  interesting  conversation.  We  all  agree  that  this 
marriage  of  yours  will  make  our  beloved  countries  the 
arbiters  of  the  world.  Our  brother  in  Berlin — whom  by 
the  way  you  let  off  rather  lightly — will  have  to  wait  a 
long  time  for  his  opportunity  to  recover  Lower  Alsace. 
Personally,  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  his  Teutonic 
Majesty.  As  I  read  in  one  of  their  papers,  a  day  or  so 
back,  and  as  I  think  myself,  he  is  a  man  of  modern  ideas, 
enthusiastically  devoted  to  his  exalted  mission — namely, 
that  of  promoting  the  happiness  of  a  generous  nation, 
and  accessible  to  all  the  lofty  ideals  which  a  period  of 
stress  and  storm  puts  to  the  test.  He  and  I,  likewise, 
have  many  things  in  common.  We  both  paint.  We 
both  use  those  dummy  rowing-machines  which  come 
from  London,  he  every  morning  in  his  palace,  I  every 
morning  in  mine.  I  should  like  to  see  him  on  it.  I 
wonder  whether  he  'buckets, '  as  they  say  in  England. 
I  wonder  what  he  wears.  I  wear  a  silk  gauze  vest  with 
a  bee  rampant  on  chest  and  back,  and  white  flannel 
knickerbockers,  likewise  sprinkled  with  bees.  I  wonder 
whether  he  also  uses  gauze.  If  he  does,  I  feel  quite 
sure  he  has  the  German  eagle  wherever  there's  room  for 
it.  Anyhow,  however  admirable  he  may  be  as  a  man, 
however  much  he  resembles  me  in  tastes  and  character, 
he  will  once  more  have  to  bow  his  neck  to  the  Franco- 
Russian  yoke.  Prehlen  says  he  won't  like  it.  I  am 
rather  of  the  contrary  opinion.  He  is  a  man  of  marvel- 
lous resource;  he  will  find  compensation  elsewhere.  He 
will  turn  his  attention  to  England,  until  we  are  ready 
for  the  Sea  Spider.  He  will  humiliate  her  in  every  pos- 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  589 

sible  way;  bully  her  before  all  Europe;  gain  moral  vic- 
tories over  her  by  means  of  the  penny  post  and  the  Rhine 
Gazette,  moral  victories  that  shall  wipe  out  any  little  in- 
discretions that  may  have  marked  the  commencement  of 
his  reign.  He  is  a  marvellous  young  person;  and  we 
French  ought  to  be  exceedingly  grateful  to  him.  If  it 
had  n't  been  for  him,  we  might  not  even  have  won  back 
— ahem — Lower  Alsace.  By  the  way,  Prehlen  will  send 
you  round  the  papers  to  night." 

"Prince  Felix,"  moaned  the  sufferer,  "won't  you 
please  come  back  in  the  morning?  I  am  very  unwell." 

"My  place  is  beside  the  sick-bed  (yea,  the  death-bed) 
of  my  most  beloved  relative.  Do  not  give  way  to  un- 
manly terrors,  dear  one,  your  own  Fely-Wely  is  with 
you.  Are  you  faint?"  with  growing  concern. 

"Yes,"  whispered  his  Majesty,  "extremely  faint." 

"Do  you  feel  a  pain  here?"  the  Prince  went  on,  lay- 
ing his  fat  hand  over  the  region  of  the  imperial  stomach. 

"Yes." 

"Acute?" 

"Terribly  acute." 

Felix  at  once  became  very  friendly  and  eager.  He 
sprang  off  his  ledge  above  the  Emperor's  head,  and  com- 
menced to  prance  about  the  room  in  a  state  of  great  ex- 
citement. 

"Brandy,"  he  exclaimed,  rummaging  among  the  Em- 
peror's drawers,  "that's  what  you  want.  Angina pectoris 
— poor  father,  you  know — beginning  of  the  end — fearful 
pain  for  an  hour  or  two — terrible  contraction  of  the 
chest — fortitude,  my  brave  cousin!  You  will  be  at  peace 
to-morrow." 

"Felix,  for  heaven's  sake  stop  jumping  about  the 
room." 

"I  must  jump,  I  feel  so  happy.  Besides,  I  am  look- 
ing for  the  brandy." 

"I  do  n't  keep  brandy  in  my  desk.  Please  ring  the 
bell  for  Godefroy,  and  go  away." 

"I  call  you  extremely  unkind,"  the  Prince  answered, 
coming  back  to  his  seat  on  the  sofa.  "I  am  a  very  much 
better  sick-nurse  than  a  score  of  your  fat  Godefroys. 
My  Swedish  nightingale  says  I  am,  and  she  ought  to 


590'  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

know.  I  do  n't  believe  you  've  got  anything  the  matter 
with  you.  It  's  all  pretence  and  humbug.  Angina  pectoris 
is  not  for  such  as  you.  Cousin  Louis,  you  're  a 
wild  young  dog.  I  'm  a  trifle  dissipated  I  admit,  but 
I  do  n't  go  shooting  young  ladies  when  I  am  tired  of 
them." 

"Godefroy,  please  come  to  me." 

"He  won't  come  to  you,  you  may  be  quite  sure.  He 
and  I  are  equally  disgusted  with  you.  I  shall  have  to 
take  you  in  hand,  otherwise  you  will  be  getting  us  into 
very  bad  odor  indeed.  Cousin  Louis,  it  would  have  been 
a  thousand  times  better  for  every  one  if  you  had  stayed 
in  Pimlico;  you  do  n't  understand  these  things." 

"I  did  n't  shoot  her." 

"You  did." 

"I  did  n't.     Please  go  away." 

"Well,  whether  you  did  or  not,  it  does  n't  show  you 
up  in  any  more  agreeable  light.  I  believe  you  both 
agreed  to  commit  suicide;  and  now  you 're  frightened. 
I  adhere  to  my  former  statement;  it  would  have  been  a 
million  times  better  for  every  one  had  you  stayed  in 
Pimlico." 

"You  are  insolent." 

"I  merely  say  what  is  the  truth.  Could  n't  you  go 
back?" 

"You  are  insulting.     Please  go  away." 

"Louis,  Louis,  do  not  be  so  hasty.  I  do  n't  mean  go 
back  to  the  life  your  own  merits  won  for  you  in  former 
days.  Of  course  we  should  make  you  an  allowance. 
And  I  would  write  to  the  government.  They  might  be 
prevailed  upon  to  give  you  a  judgeship  or  a  bishopric. 
You  would  like  that,  is  it  not  so,  Louis?  Fancy  you 
Bishop  of — of — of  Whitechapel,  for  example!  What  a 
guide  you  would  be  to  them." 

At  that  moment  rescue  came. 

"Thank  God,"  murmured  Bonaparte,  "here  is  Gode- 
froy. ' ' 

The  old  valet  laid  a  hand  upon  Felix's  shoulder  and 
drew  him  gently  from  his  perch  toward  the  door.  The 
Prince  made  no  effort  at  resistance,  merely  turning  to 
fire  a  parting  shot  from  the  threshold. 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  591 

"Bishop  of  Whitechapel,  Louis! — the  thing  is  well 
worth  considering." 

"Sire,"  Godefroy  exclaimed,  when  master  and  serv- 
ant were  alone,  "this  is  a  bad  business." 

"Oh,  Godefroy,"  cried  Bonaparte,  "you  don't  think 
I  shot  her?" 

"No,  I  know  you  did  not,"  answered  the  other  grave- 
ly. The  old  fellow's  voice,  his  face,  his  very  attitude, 
were  eloquent  of  the  most  intense  compassion.  But  it 
was  not  compassion  for  the  shivering  survivor  in  front 
of  him. 

"Poor,  poor  child,"  he  murmured,  "if  only  she  had 
listened  to  Marshal  Brisson. " 

"Anyhow,"  Bonaparte  retorted  doggedly,  "I  didn't 
kill  her." 

"Ah,"  whispered  the  butler,  still  in  meditation,  "the 
great  God  will  be  kindest  to  her  soul.  Sire,  I  have  sent 
for  the  Premier  and  M.  de  Morin.  Till  they  come,  you 
must  not  stir." 

Left  alone  once  more,  the  Emperor  tried  to  sleep. 
He  did  doze  off,  only  to  be  awakened  presently  by  some 
one  tapping  gently  at  the  door. 

He  had  strength  enough  to  murmur  the  necessary 
words.  A  voice  he  did  not  recognize  rapped  out: 

"Sire,  I  bring  these  papers  from  the  Russian  Ambas- 
sador." 

"Lay  them  down,"  groaned  his  Majesty  without 
moving. 

"He  desires  me  to  take  back  word  whether  they  are 
found  in  form. " 

"He  shall  know  to-morrow." 

"Sire,"  the  familiar  unrecognized  voice  continued,  a 
trifle  more  brusquely,  "I  have  a  friend  here  who  desires 
to  speak  with  you." 

His  Majesty  turned  lazily  over.  His  brain  was  hardly 
prepared  for  what  he  saw. 

Nicholas  Fersen  stood  beside  the  table  (almost  on  the 
spot  where  she  had  stood,  just  now,  and  died) ;  while  no 
less  a  person  than  Lord  Mendril  himself  occupied  a  few 
yards  of  carpet  just  short  of  the  door,  his  back  firmly 
set  against  that  useful  article. 


592  THE   FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

Napoleon  made  no  attempt  to  stir.  Both  the  in- 
truders glowered  at  him. 

"Let  me  tell  you,  young  gentlemen,"  the  Sovereign 
commenced,  "I  am  not  in  a  mood  to  bandy  words  with 
you."  This  sudden  access  of  energy  surprised  him  very 
much.  He  went  on:  "I  must  ask  you  both  to  with- 
draw." 

"Have  you  locked  the  door?"  Fersen  asked  of  his 
companion. 

"Yes." 

"Now,  Monsieur,  we  have  a  word  or  two  to  say  to 
you." 

"I  refuse  to  listen.  Put  the  papers  on  the  table  as  I 
ordered  you  just  now,  and  go  away." 

Fersen  obeyed  to  the  extent  that  he  laid  his  docu- 
ments on  the  top  of  their — her  proclamations.  Napoleon 
caught  sight  of  them  and  shuddered.  He  would  get 
short  shrift,  he  felt,  if  this  wretched  Oriental  discovered 
them  and  proceeded  to  put  piece  and  piece  together. 

"Now,  then,  Mendril,"  prompted  the  latter. 

"Nicholas,  old  fellow,  do  you  begin." 

"Very  well.  Monsieur,  we  have  come  to  demand 
reparation  for  your  cruel  conduct  to  Mademoiselle." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  Bonaparte  rejoined  sul- 
lenly. 

"We  thought  you  might  not.  Cowards  like  you  are 
not  quick  at  catching  the  force  of  such  words." 

"You  are  an  insolent  cad.  You  shall  pay  for  this. 
You  shall  languish  in  jail  for  life;  you  shall  be  deported 
to  New  Caledonia.  You,  too,  Lord  Mendril.  You  are 
in  France  now,  not  at  Oxford;  and  you  shall  find  out 
that  you  cannot  insult  the  head  of  the  state  with  im- 
punity." 

"No  more  of  this  foolery,"  cries  Fersen,  keeping  all 
the  while  provokingly  cool  and  deliberate.  "You  have 
got  to  fight  one  of  us — Mendril  or  me,  we  do  n't  care 
which.  And  you  may  choose  your  own  weapon." 

"A  duel!"  gasped  his  Majesty,  quite  overcome  by 
the  boldness  of  the  idea. 

"Exactly." 


THE    FOURTH  NAPOLEON  593 

"You  don't  expect  me  to  go  out  and  fight  a  duel  at 
this  time  of  night?" 

"It  won't  be  necessary  to  leave  this  room.  We  shall 
fight  here." 

"Fight  here?"  repeated  the  Emperor  in  a  dazed  way; 
"really  I  don't  understand  you?" 

"The  thing  is  quite  simple.  The  room  is  a  good  size; 
and  if  it  is  to  be  swords  we  can  clear  the  table  out  of 
the  way." 

"For  heaven's  sake  do  n't  do  anything  of  the  kind." 

"You  prefer  pistols?" 

"I  certainly  sha'n't  fence." 

"Very  well,  let  it  be  pistols.     Choose  your  man." 

The  Emperor  did  not  deign  an  answer. 

"Nicholas,  we  shall  have  to  toss,"  and  Mendril  pro- 
duced a  coin  which  he  spun  and  caught  in  his  left  hand. 

"Heads!"  cried  Nicholas. 

"Tails  it  is,"  replied  the  other  with  a  note  of  triumph. 
"I  likewise  prefer  pistols.  The  only  question  is,  where 
are  we  to  get  them  from?" 

"Monsieur,  does  not  that  door  yonder  lead  into  your 
dressing-room?" 

"Yes,  it  does,"  grumbled  Monsieur. 

"You  keep  pistols  in  there?" 

"Indeed  I  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  If  you  want  weap- 
ons you  '11  have  to  ring  the  bell." 

"Walter,  there  is  no  help  for  it.  You  must  leave  me 
to  mount  guard  over  our  friend.  Do  you  slip  round  to 
my  rooms  and  bring  mine.  For  God's  sake  be  careful 
how  you  go. " 

"Nicholas,  the  thing  is  utterly  impracticable.  I 
should  never  get  through  a  second  time." 

"I  fear  not.  What 's  to  be  done? — I  suppose  Walter, 
you  could  n't  fight  with  razors?" 

"I  'm  willing  enough." 

"Or  the  fire-irons?"  glancing  regretfully  at  the 
poker. 

"Nicholas,  let 's  horsewhip  him  and  have  done  with 
it.  We  have  been  here  long  enough;  we  shall  be  dis- 
covered if  we  don't  take  care." 


594  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

"Honestly  I  don't  know  what   to    say."     A  minute 
later  the  young  Russian  gave  a  shout  of  triumph: 
"Walter,  isyeursa.  sword-stick?" 

"It's  one  of  your's,  Nick;  so  I'm  sure  I  don't 
know."  Walter  gave  an  anxious  pull  at  the  handle  of 
his  cane.  "If  it  is,  it 's  confoundedly  sti — by  Jove, 
Nicky,  it  is.  What  a  piece  of  luck." 

Nicky,  who,  as  it  will  be  noticed,  had  a  considerable 

weakness   for   these    sanguinary    utensils,    had    already 

bared  his  own  glittering  blade.     He  gave  it  a  triumphant 

flourish  above   his   head,  then   held   it  across  the  table, 

handle  foremost,  for  Napoleon  to  take. 

The  Emperor  backed  against  the  wall. 

"Keep  it  away!  keep  the  nasty  thing  away!     I  tell 

you  I  can't  fence." 

"Mendril  shall  use  his  left  hand." 
"This  is  assassination!"  cried  our  hero.    "You  young 
men  shall  lose  your  heads  over  this  business." 

"Will  you  take  the  stick,"  urged  Fersen,  dangling  it 
very  little  more  than  an  inch  above  the  imperial 
nose. 

"Do  n  't  I  tell  you,  you  murderer,  that  I  can't  fence?" 
"I  insist  upon  your  taking  it." 

"I  refuse.  I  can't  fence;  and  if  I  could,  I  would  n't. 
You  forget  who  I  am.  I  am  the  Emperor.  The  Em- 
peror does  n't  fight  duels  with  a  couple  of  drunken  young 
men." 

"For  a  third  time  I  demand  that  you  should  take  it." 
"For  a  third  time  I  refuse.  If  you  like  to  slay  a  de- 
fenceless man  in  cold  blood,  that's  your  business.  I 
shall  not  rise  from  this  sofa.  If  you  fancy  that  I  shall 
attempt  to  defend  myself  with  the  poker,  or  that  I  shall 
endeavor  to  ring  the  bell,  you  are  quite  mistaken.  I  do 
not  intend  to  raise  a  finger.  See,  I  bare  my  breast! 
Strike,  you  young  assassins!" 

Lord  Mendril  had  already  sent  his  rapier  home  into 
its  covering  once  more. 
"Nicky,  it 's  no  use." 

"I  am  afraid  not.     I  knew  he  was  a  coward." 
"Is  it  cowardly  to  await  the  cut-throat's  blow,  calmly 
reposing  with  bared  breast  on  one's  sofa?"  demanded 


THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON  595 

Coesar.  "Really  you  young  men  are  behaving  in  a  ridicu- 
lous fashion.  You  had  much  better  go  quietly  away." 

The  two  boys  looked  at  one  another  rather  despond- 
ingly.  Caesar,  prostrate  upon  his  sofa,  his  breast  bared 
to  anything,  from  the  assassin's  dagger  to  a  horsewhip, 
proved  rather  a  difficult  nut  to  crack. 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do  with  my  sister?"  Mendril 
persisted. 

Napoleon  could  n't  take  his  eyes  off  the  proclama- 
tions. Fersen  was  getting  nearer  to  them  every  minute. 
They  almost  touched  the  last  button  of  his  waistcoat. 
For  all  the  poor  Emperor  knew,  they  might  be  spattered 
with  blood. 

The  young  Englishman  repeated  his  question. 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do  with  my  sister?" 

"Do  you  intend  to  keep  her  on  at  Meaux  as  your  mis- 
tress?" Fersen  blazed  out. 

"At  least  I  owe  no  explanation  to  you,"  our  hero  re- 
torted, his  mind  still  busy  with  the  proclamations — the 
possibly  blood-bespattered  proclamations. 

"You  owe  it  to  all  who  have  the  power  to  demand 
one,"  muttered  the  Count. 

"How  dare  you  say  that?" 

"Fersen,  do  keep  quiet.  Sir,  answer  me.  What  do 
you  propose  to  do  with  my  sister?" 

"I  will  answer  you,  Lord  Mendril.  In  your  case  the 
matter  is  very  different.  I  recognize  your  right  to  ques- 
tion me.  Believe  me  I  can  sympathize  with  your  anger 
— there,  I  confess  it."  And  he  straightway  proceeded 
to  brandish  an  olive-branch. 

"Come  back  here  in  the  morning — alone,  mind.  You 
and  I  between  us  can  then  review  the  situation.  We 
shall  both  be  calmer  in — in  the  morning." 

The  young  lord  was  obviously  wavering. 

"There  is  no  situation  to  review,"  interrupted  that 
confounded  Muscovite.  "You  have  lied  to  the  young 
lady,  and  betrayed  her,  and  now  you  are  meaning  to 
marry  some  one  else." 

"You  are  an  exceedingly  ill-bred  young  man.  You 
seem  to  forget  that  you  are  speaking  to  the  Emperor. 
You  shall  smart  for  your  impertinence.  Lord  Mendril  I 


596  THE    FOURTH   NAPOLEON 

have  told  you  the  extent  to  which  I  can  go.  Kindly  re- 
move your  friend,  and  return  alone  in  the  morning." 

"We  have  not  done  with  you  yet,"  exclaimed  the  tur- 
bulent Nicholas.  "You  forget  that  we  have  the  door 
locked,  and  that  we  do  n't  mean  to  let  you  get  near  the 
bell." 

Napoleon  groaned. 

"You  are  a  coward  thus  to  threaten  an  unarmed 
man." 

"We  are  practically  unarmed  as  well,"  retorted  Fer- 
sen,  eagerly.  "Let  me  fetch  a  couple  of  swords  from 
your  dressing-room — provided  you  keep  anything  so 
deadly  there.  Either  of  us  is  willing  to  fight  you.  You 
won't  avail  yourself  of  our  sword-sticks." 

"I  have  told  you  a  dozen  times  already  I  won't  fight. 
I  am  the  Emperor." 

"Emperor  or  no  Emperor,  we  mean  to  get  some  satis- 
faction out  of  you  before  we  leave  this  room.  If  Men- 
dril  took  my  advice,  he  would  horsewhip  you." 

"You  shall  smart  for  this." 

"Get  up  and  face  me  like  a  man.  You  daren't. 
You  can  only  bully  women  and  weakly  girls." 

"Fersen,  do  be  quiet,"  Walter  interposed.  "Let  us 
hear  what  he  suggests." 

"Come  back  in  the  morning." 

"No,  I  must  hear  now." 

"I  won't  be  ordered  about  in  this  way,"  shouted 
poor  Bonaparte,  flinging  both  feet  in  the  air  and  bring- 
ing them  down  with  a  whack  upon  the  springs.  "I  will 
have  both  you  young  men  thrown  into  prison." 

"We  don't  budge  till  you  have  told  us,"  rasped  out 
Fersen. 

The  monarch  turned  round  once  more  to  the  light. 
"Mendril,"  he  said,  raising  his  head  the  least  little  bit 
from  his  pillow  and  gazing  straight  at  Walter,  "have 
your  people  left  yet?" 

"No,  they  haven't." 

"Look  here,  Mendril,  what  do  you  say  to  take  my 
wi — your  poor — your  dear  sister  off  to  India?  The  voy- 
age will  do  her  heaps  of  good.  Simla  will  bring  the 
roses  back  into  her  cheeks;  and  I — I  will  write  her  a 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  597 

letter  in  a  week  or  so,  when  we  are  both  calmer."  He 
really  began  to  believe  that  the  poor  creature  was  still 
alive.  Fersen  brought  him  back  to  his  senses. 

"She  will  come  to  Dmitroff,"  he  grumbled. 

"No,  that  she  never  will,"  Napoleon  answered 
maliciously.  He  turned  back  to  Lord  Mendril: 

"Well,  Mendril,  what  do  you  say?" 

"It  is  for  my  parents  to  decide." 

"You  shall  communicate  with  them  at  once.  Let  me 
ring  for  Godefroy  to  bring  you  a  form." 

"You  do  n't  get  near  the  bell. " 

"Count  Fersen,  I  disdain  to  notice  your  rudeness. 
Mendril,  consider  the  matter  well ;  sleep  on  it,  in  fact, 
and  let  me  have  your  answer  in  the  morning." 

"I  call  it  a  cowardly  suggestion.  You  are  tired  of 
the  young  lady — God  help  her!  poor  thing — and  now  you 
want  her  parents  to  take  her  off  your  hands.  Mendril, 
reflect,  you  take  away  all  chance  your  sister  has  of  re- 
habilitating herself." 

"Ah,  Nicholas,  but  it  will  be  happier  for  her." 

"Shame  is  never  happy." 

"Lord  Mendril  is  right,"  broke  in  the  recumbent 
philosopher.  "It  will  be  happier  for  her.  The  wealth 
of  love  I  should  offer  her  would  not  make  up  for  all  the 
miseries  the  ermine  brings.  Besides — besides  I  fear  the 
memory  of  our  common  weakness  would  never  com- 
pletely pass  away.  It  would  always  hover  like  a  ghost 
between  us.  No,  she  had  much  better  go  to  India." 

Walter  Mendril  conceded  a  single  step. 

"I  will  find  out  what  my  people  have  to  say." 

"That's  a  wise  fellow." 

"What  about  the  girl  herself?"  cried  Fersen. 

The  gentle  Mendril  lapsed  for  a  moment  into  the 
Honourable  Charles. 

"I  do  n't  think  she  need  be  considered,"  he  blazed  out. 
"  His  lordship  is  right,"  chimed  in  the  sofa.  "Her 
conduct  in  the  past  shows  clearly  that  she  is  not  the  best 
judge  of  her  own  interests." 

Fersen  was  too  overcome  even  to  concur;  Bonaparte 
stroked  his  chin,  his  face  wearing  the  bright  dawn  of  re- 
turning complacency. 


598  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"Or  look  here,  Mendril,"  that  Potentate  went  on, 
"why  can't  you  get  some  decent  fellow  to  marry  her, 
and  set  up  a  happy  home  for  her.  There  must  be  a 
heap  of  men  over  in  dear  old  England  who  would  only 
be  too  glad.  Some  one  a  leetle  bit  her  social  inferior,  I 
mean.  In  a  month  or  two  she  will  be  just  as  pretty  as 
ever  she  was.  Poor  girl  we  all  want  her  to  have  a  little 
peace.  She's  been  through  so  much." 

"Listen  to  this  cur!"  gasped  Nicholas.  He  lifted 
the  papers  which  he  had  brought  with  him;  nothing  re- 
mained to  keep  the  blood-stained  proclamations  from 
the  light  of  day.  Bonaparte  shuddered.  But  the  infer- 
nal Muscovite  having  given  one  flourish  with  the  dam- 
aging documents  laid  them  back  upon  poor  Muriel's. 
And  the  Emperor  breathed  again. 

"Look  here,  Mendril,"  his  Majesty  recommenced 
when  he  had  so  far  recovered,  "I  tell  you  frankly,  I  am 
very,  very  sorry  for  what  I  have  done.  I  own  it.  I 
would  give  worlds  to  undo  it.  I  curse  myself  every  day 
for  my  conduct — yes,  my  treachery  to  your  poor  sister. 
But  the  thing  now  is,  alas,  irrevocable.  We  cannot  go 
back,  grieve  how  we  may.  Believe  me,  I  do  grieve  most 
bitterly.  Communing  with  myself  I  can  find  no  words 
hard  enough  to  describe  my  conduct.  But  as  I  said  just 
now  we  can't  go  back.  And  exigencies  of  State  will 
not  permit  me  to  go  forward.  The  dearest  wish  of  life 
was — is  to  have  your  sister  as  my  Empress.  Unhappily, 
all  my  ministers  tell  me  the  thing  is  impossible.  Believe 
me,  dear  Mendril,  when  I  say  the  burden  weighs  every 
bit  as  heavily  on  me.  I  do  not  want  to  marry  this  Rus- 
sian princess.  She  is  not  pretty.  I  want  to  marry  your 
dear  sister,  and  I  cannot  because  she  is  dea — denied  me 
by  the  exigencies  of  State.  Mendril,  do  n't  you  see  my 
point?  Things  being  as  they  are,  cannot  we  manage  to 
make  the  best  of  them?  Take  it  your  parents  do  n't 
care  for  India.  Very  well,  Monar — kings  frequently 
contract  morganatic  alliances  in  these  days,  without  dis- 
grace to  either  party." 

The  Englishman  answered  never  a  word. 

"We  shall  be  so  happy,  your  dear  sister  and  I.  She 
shall  have  everything  she  desires.  You,  all  of  you,  will 


THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON  599 

come  and  visit  her;  and — and  I  will  strive  by  my  devo- 
tion to  make  up  for  my  treachery  in  the  past." 

Once  again,  for  the  time  being  he  forgot  that  she  lay 
dead  in  some  adjoining  room. 

"Walter,  how  can  you  even  listen  to  such  disgraceful 
proposals?" 

"Count  Fersen,  the  matter  does  not  concern  you." 

"It  does  concern  me.  I  would  rather  see  the  poor 
girl  dead — what  is  this?" 

He  had  stumbled  upon  the  proclamations.  They  were 
spattered  with  blood. 

Bonaparte  shivered. 

Next  minute  the  young  Russian's  foot  had  struck 
something  hard. 

"And  this?"   he  cried. 

He  dived  beneath  the  table,  and  brought  the  pistol 
and  the  dead  woman's  silk  shawl  to  light. 

"And  this?"  he  repeated.     "There  is  blood  upon  it!" 

His  face,  meanwhile,  had  grown  very  white  and 
drawn.  His  voice  had  become  terribly  deliberate.  Na- 
poleon could  not  meet  the  eyes  that  seemed  to  him  to 
blaze  down  into  his  soul. 

"She  has  been  here?"  Nicholas  thundered  out.  The 
cowering  wretch  dared  not  lie. 

"My  God,  Walter,  what  does  this  mean? — quick,  the 
inner  room — she  may  be  there." 

Walter  had  sprung  across  the  threshold  before  the 
words  were  well  out  of  the  other's  mouth.  The  next 
instant  a  cry  rose  to  heaven. 

"Speak  to  me,  Muriel!  I  am  your  bro — Nicholas! 
help!  she  is  dead." 

But  Fersen  did  not  move. 

"An  accident — blood — getting  better — next  room — 
convalescent,  marry  her,"  the  hunted  creature  gasped 
out,  appealing  eyes  turned  on  his  pursuer.  He  saw  the 
Russian  lift  a  threatening  arm  and  hurl  something  at 
him.  And  he  saw  no  more. 

*  *  *  *  *  # 

The  sound  of  confused  voices  and  hurrying  feet  broke 
in  upon  the  silence.  Abrupt  fingers  clutched  the  outer 
handle  of  the  door — then  Godefroy's  voice: 


6oo  THE    FOURTH    NAPOLEON 

"It  is  locked!" 

"Break  it  open!"  from  Carache. 

Some  one  flung  his  whole  weight  against  the  wood- 
work. Once — twice — the  third  blow  the  door  thundered 
down. 

Carache,  De  Morin  with  him,  and  the  butler  heading  a 
crowd  of  palace  servants  flowed  forward — to  fall  back 
reverently  before  the  worthless  dead. 

Only,  De  Morin  muttered: 

"Poor  nephew  Louis!  The  best  way  out  of  it,  I 
think." 

And  Carache  made  answer,  "The  best  way, "  in  the 
same  low  tones. 

Then  the  Premier  added  more  cheerfully: 

"I  will  despatch  a  telegram  to  Havre." 

The  chamberlain  smiled.  "Carache,  you  are  a  won- 
derful fellow." 

THE    END. 


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